


Digimon Adventure: Firewall

by nihilBliss



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Gen, Multiverse, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poisoning, Post-Canon, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilBliss/pseuds/nihilBliss
Summary: Times are hard for Andre LeDoux. His mom can't stop crying, and he has no idea how to help. And as if that's not bad enough, he's been sucked into his phone. Can he find the strength to make it home?Set ten years after Adventure 02, this ignores the events of Tri. On hiatus; posting will resume once complete.





	1. Chapter 1

On the evening of August 1, 2012, in his first truly free hour, Andre LeDoux tripped over a soccer ball. He twisted himself away from the concrete, landing awkwardly in the soft grass of the apartment courtyard.

"Are you okay?"

A little girl and her father came running up. The father offered his hand. The girl did the same at first, but recoiled, wrinkling her nose and pinching it between two fingers.

"Daddy, he stinks like pickles!" she said.

It was true. The shoes were to blame. Andre's uniform was stuffed away in his backpack, trapping its smell. But there was nothing he could do about the sharp vinegar tang coming from his shoes.

"I'll be fine," he said, standing on his own, lanky but steady.

He picked up the girl's ball, smiling politely as he handed it back. She tried to take it in one too-small arm, failing to get a grip but refusing to expose herself to the stink.

"Don't be rude," her father said, reaching past her to take the ball. "I'm sorry, she usually has better manners than this." Andre waved him off and turned away.

"It beats smelling like a fryer," he quipped, already walking up the stairs to his second floor apartment.

Only once the door was closed did he allow himself to wince. He pulled up the end of his shorts to examine his knee. His almond-brown skin was torn and already oozing blood. He limped across the living room to the bathroom, one hand covering the wound, just in case. No sense in staining the carpet.

Andre carefully wiped the debris from his knee with a soapy facecloth, then dabbed it clean with a damp paper towel, which he stuffed into his pocket. He peeled open a bandage and covered the wound, then washed his hands clean, using only a trickle of water.

Easing the bathroom door open, he then tip-toed into his bedroom.

Door closed, Andre sat on his bed, checking his shorts for stains. There was a little blood on one leg, but not much. He pulled them off over his shoes, flinging them into the dirty clothes hamper by his door, followed by the bloody face cloth, then the filthy black polo and matching mini-apron from his backpack. Andre retrieved a pair of jeans from his dresser and pulled them on slowly, careful not to disturb his bandage. Now decent, he grabbed his backpack and returned to the front door.

"Hey, I'm home," he announced, before trudging into the kitchen. His mother, Celine, sat at the small dinner table, facing away from the door. She inhaled a ragged breath before running the sleeve of her shirt across her face, then set down a small pink paperback. Turning, she smiled at Andre, eyes still puffy and red.

"Hey, pup," she said. "How was work today?"

"Are you okay, Mom?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine," she said through a sniffle. "Just reading a sad part, don't worry honey. I look like a mess, don't I?"

"You're fine, Mom," he said. A pause hung heavy in the air. Andre sucked at his lower lip for a moment.

"I brought dinner from the shop," he announced, pulling two plastic-wrapped sandwiches from his bag.

"How much did you spend?" she asked, already moving to retrieve her purse. Andre held his hand up.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

"Andre, you're sixteen," she said. "You don't have to pay for your mother's dinner."

"Thursday is my turn to cook, remember?" he smiled. "And I didn't feel like cooking tonight. Besides, employee discount. It's nothing." Celine smiled.

"We did a good job with you, didn't we?" Andre's expression grew taut. He nodded. Again, a heavy pause.

"Can I get some quarters for the laundry machine?" he stammered. "I should wash my uniform."

"Of course," she said, walking into her bedroom. Andre strode to the table and picked up the book Celine had been reading. It was a copy of Ulysses by James Joyce, spine broken and cover dried past the point of flaking. He'd never read the story, but he knew this book well; it was older than him. He flipped open the front cover and read the sharpied note written inside.

"To Celine,

I am a Flower of the mountains. Put me in your hair like the Andalusian girls used and kiss me under the Moorish wall.

Ever your love,

Ruby."

A breath caught in his throat. He took another, slower, to help it pass, then flipped through the book. Out fell a photo of Celine and Ruby. Celine wore a modest peach dress, and Ruby was in a black vest and white blouse. Ruby clutched Celine to her. They both held a big knife, cutting through a small, round cake which read "Happy Wedding" atop. Andre touched Ruby's face. She hadn't changed much over the ensuing years. He gave himself a moment to linger before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, setting the photo on the table, and...

"Oh pup, are you okay?" Celine said. She set her purse down and embraced Andre tightly.

"I'm fine, Mom," he said. He clenched his entire body down on a shiver, trapping it deep within. Celine picked the photo up. She too touched Ruby's face, gaze growing distant, eyes already misting.

"I remember that dress," she said. "It was the bridesmaid's dress I wore to my cousin Erica's wedding. That was before you were born. And your ma, Ruby, she borrowed that whole outfit from the theater department. Did I ever tell you that?"

"No," Andre lied. He knew every detail of this story. And he was happy to hear every word again.

"We were so broke, we had to buy a cake from the grocery store," she said with a wistful chuckle. "I was still in grad school. She was working at that bookstore downtown, the one that closed when you were little. We were married in the university theater. All of my friends from the English department brought alcohol, so we had to order pizza. The deliveryman knocked right after we said 'I Do.'" Celine sighed and looked up. "It was perfect."

She tucked the photo into the back of the worn novel and set it aside, then closed her eyes, still a little bit elsewhere. Andre did nothing.

"Hard to believe it's already been a year," she said.

"Yeah," Andre agreed. A pause. He stuffed both hands into his pockets, staring at the floor. "Four more and she'll be home. Probably less than that, right?" Celine nodded, but her shoulders quaked with a sob anyway.

"Mom…" he reached out to comfort her, but his hand froze mid-air.

"It's okay, pup," she said, one hand already to her face. "It's just been a long day." Andre pushed his stray hand back into his pocket, shoulders sagging.

"I'll get plates and set the table," she said, forcing a smile. "Why don't you find some music on your phone we can listen to while we eat?"

"Sure," he said. "Just let me grab it from my work pants." He turned away before closing his eyes hard, walking blind through the apartment, using every muscle in him to keep from shaking.

After closing the door, he froze, breathing deeply. Sometimes this feeling passed easily. Other times, not so much. But it lived and died in his bedroom, always. At work, his boss, Janet, had a sign that read "Leave all phones, personal belongings and emotional baggage in the office. You may retrieve them after your shift." He mumbled the words like a prayer, over and over.

He felt the tension abate after a moment. Taking a cautious breath, he pulled his bloodied shorts from his clothes hamper. The pockets were all empty. He checked his jeans again, just in case. Wallet, yes; keys, yes; but no phone.

Andre dumped the hamper onto his bedspread and started searching through the laundry, tossing each piece in after examination.

No, no, no, and no once more.

Andre walked back into the dining room and set his backpack on a chair, searching the pockets.

"What's wrong, pup? Can't find your phone?"

"I must have left it at the shop," he concluded, backpack all but turned inside out. "What time is it?" he asked.

"7:30," said Celine. Andre inhaled sharply, then made for the door.

"Gotta get it before they close for the night. Start without me; I'll be right back!" he said.

"Wait, honey!" Celine called as the door shut behind Andre. "I could've just given him a ride..."

* * *

Sweat-slick, Andre slowed from a jog to a walk as he came to the merciful shade of the shopping center. Though the sun was low in the sky, heat still radiated from every inch of concrete and asphalt. He wiped his forehead and pushed open the door of the shop.

"Welcome to… oh hello, Andre," said the woman behind the counter.

"Hi, Janet," he said. "I think I left my phone in the office, can I go check?"

"Sure," she said. Andre nodded and opened the employee door. Immediately, the smell of pickle brine hit him. Janet paid him no mind, unhooking a jangling ring of keys from a clip on her belt and unlocking the door to her office. It was more like a closet, really, packed with manuals and paperwork on metal shelving. Andre kneeled and peered under the shelf where he'd set his backpack that morning, next to a cardboard box full of spare uniform shirts.

"You know, you've been working here for three months," Janet told him. "I can probably get the regional office to let me give you a key to the building."

"You'd do that for me?" Andre asked, turning around to look at her.

"You work hard," she said. "Besides, I can't keep grooming you to be my assistant manager if I can't trust you. Any luck with your phone?"

"Not yet." Andre stuck his head back under the shelf. The phone was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, a blue light shone from behind the shirt box. Andre pulled it away from the wall. Sure enough, there lay his phone, ringing.

"Thanks for calling it, Janet," Andre said, backing out from under the low shelf. He stood, shoving the box back into place with his foot. But Janet's hands were crossed, empty.

"Gonna answer that?" she asked. Andre stared at the screen. The caller ID showed the name "Holliday," calling from... ? He raised an eyebrow.

 _That's not a real phone number. Must be a glitch or something,_  he thought. He answered and, a little hesitant, held the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Is this Andre LeDoux?" asked the voice on the other end. It was deep and gravely, with a strong Texan twang, not one Andre recognized.

"Yeah, who's this?" he answered, each syllable slow and cautious.

"Destiny," said the voice. Then there was silence. Andre took the phone from his ear and stared at it. He shook his head and listened again, hearing breathing and what sounded like a finger frantically clicking a mouse.

Suddenly, the screen erupted in blinding blue light. Andre dropped the phone, hands covering his face, both he and Janet recoiling.

Then a clatter echoed hollow through the kitchen, and just as suddenly as it came, the light was gone. Janet slowly opened her eyes. She was alone in the room.

"Andre?" she called. There was no response. She looked down and saw Andre's phone on the floor. She stooped and picked it up with two fingers, lifting it like a mouse that might not be as dead as she hoped. Its screen showed a cartoon of an old man holding a wrench with the word "Oops!" below.

Janet's mind was flooded with a thousand words and images, like police, kidnapping, her boss, a mountain of paperwork, news cameras, aliens, UFOs, computer hackers... With no other recourse, Janet expressed all of these ideas at once, simultaneously.

She screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to beta-reader DigiJosify and plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Additional thanks to ThereBeWhalesHere.


	2. Chapter 2

The light subsided, but Andre clenched his eyes shut, phone held tight to his chest. Clumps of coarse grass poked through the sand beneath him. The wind whipped chill and damp as waves crashed nearby. A fine mist beaded on his skin. Slowly, Andre opened his eyes to the flat-gray sky above. Maybe twenty feet to his left, the ground ended in a cliff, beyond which a slate-gray sea reached to the horizon. To his right, sandy hills studded with beach grass rolled along. A path wove its way away from the cliff, around a hill then over another. Down the cliff's edge, a great mast pointed skyward, the only visible sign of civilization.

 _Where am I?_  Andre woke his phone, but it was stuck on an unfamiliar error screen, one showing an old man with a moustache and ponytail, dressed in a pink and purple robe, waving a wrench around over the word "Oops!"

"It's not even telling me what's wrong with the phone," he muttered. "What's the point?" Andre breathed deep, then broke his situation down.

 _Alright,_  he thought,  _I'm on a cliff by a beach, and I don't know where I am, and I have to get home. My phone isn't working, so I need some other way to figure out where I am. And I don't want to freeze to death before that happens, so I need to get dry and warm up._

Andre wobbled to his feet, then stumbled, nearly falling, squatting for a moment and rising again. Lacking any other point of reference, he staggered toward the mast, arms wrapped around himself against the whipping wind. The soft sand exaggerated every step.

The mast was attached to a yacht some fifty or sixty feet long, glossy white with a red trim, showroom-floor pristine save for a massive hole in the seaward side of the bow, big enough to drive a truck through. Unnerved, Andre flopped against the opposite side of the boat, hugging his long legs to his chest. It blocked the wind, at least.

_Where could I be that would get so cold in August? Is this England? It looks like pictures of England. Does it get this cold in England in summer? Or am I further north, like Sweden or Greenland?_

Andre snapped out of his reverie as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Maybe the error had fixed itself? He whipped it from his pocket, but the screen showed only two red dots blinking, one at the center and one off to the side. Andre pressed the wake button. Nothing happened.

Again, he pressed.

Again, nothing.

The side dot drew closer to the center.

He opened the phone open and popped out the battery, then slid it back in. It powered up immediately, but showed only the red dots. They were now even closer. Andre held the phone flat and turned it like a compass. The off-center dot rotated.

"Radar?" Andre pondered, scanning the hills. Maybe a hundred yards away, a person in a blue hoodie jogged toward him. Andre stood and waved his hands over his head. The figure returned the gesture. He was a boy, maybe a little younger than Andre, maybe his own age. He was a little short, broad-shouldered but by no means large.

"Hey! Over here!" Andre shouted, already jogging.

"Oh my gosh, another human!" the boy said. "Hi! My name's Braden! You're the first other human I've seen here! Are you Andre?"

"Wait, what?" Andre reeled. "How do you know my name? What do you mean first human? Where the hell are we?"

"We're in the Digital World, duh," Braden said, rolling his eyes. He had brown hair that made Andre think of George Clooney and a pinched, upturned nose. His hoodie bore a logo from a summer camp Andre had never heard of. Over his shoulders, he carried a nondescript gray backpack. "Or did your Digimon not tell you that yet?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"Oh! Has your Digimon not shown up yet?" Braden asked. "Oh, okay! Well, it's like… have you ever seen Tron? We're in a computer program, like that."

"So how do…" Andre began.

"And there's these things called Digimon!" Braden interrupted. "They're like Quorra, you know? Like intelligent computer programs or NPCs or something. But not sexy — or not that I've seen."

"Digimon?"

"Yeah, let me show you one. Hey, Cobol! Come on out!" Braden shouted, voice cracking. A set of three interconnected gears floated out from behind a hill toward Andre. The larger center gear bore a smiling face with red eyes. Each focused independently, adjusting like apertures on a camera.

"Greetings," it said in a deep, smooth voice. The inside of its mouth was full of fine, interlocking gears, like a watch. "I am Hagurumon. My partner, Braden, has nicknamed me Cobol. You may call me that. Your name is Andre, correct?"

Andre started for a moment, dumbstruck.

"What are you?" Andre asked.

"He's a Digimon!" Braden replied. "So where's yours?" Andre opened and closed his mouth but couldn't make a sound.

"Here," Cobol answered, nudging Andre's pocket. Andre jumped and stumbled backwards, falling to the sand and dropping his phone. Cobol immediately floated over and nudged it with what Andre supposed would be a nose. Suddenly, the screen emitted a bright blue cone of light. Andre recoiled, guarding his face.

"Not again!" he shouted.

But soon, the light began to fade. Andre dared to uncover his eyes. Above his phone, a second Hagurumon floated next to Cobol, its eyes and mouth shut as if sleeping.

"What…" Andre started. Braden, now crouching, poked Andre's arm.

"Maybe it's your Digimon," he half-whispered. "Go touch it!"

Andre tip-toed over to the newcomer, reaching his fingertips toward the surface of the Hagurumon's face, hesitant. His hand hovered for a moment, then another, before he tested the Digimon's cool, metallic skin with a fingertip.

Nothing happened.

"Hello?" he said. He tapped once, twice. "Are you alive?"

Suddenly, a warmth glowed from the metal surface. Hagurumon's eyes slid open. Unlike Cobol, this one's eyes were gold. It smiled pleasantly.

"Hello, Andre," it said in even and pleasant tenor. "My name is Hagurumon. I am your Digimon partner. It is a pleasure to meet you." It bowed — rotated mid-air, really.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Hagurumon," Andre said. "Is that what you want me to call you?"

"That is accurate," Hagurumon replied. Its smile vanished, and it stared toward the cliff. "Andre, please pick up your digivice. My arrival has awoken a hostile Digimon."

Half the deck of the yacht promptly erupted in splinters. A spiked, terrapin head burst from the deck, flinging wood into the air. Andre thought it was a massive tortoise, shell studded with huge tan spikes like rough-hewn stone.

"Tortamon, " announced Cobol. "That is Tortamon."

"Hostile?" asked Braden.

"Presumably," Cobol replied. "I should be able to neutralize him with Hagurumon's assistance."

Braden grinned at Andre.

"We have little choice," Hagurumon added. "He is charging."

Tortamon roared, then galloped forward. Every stride cast a plume of sand into the air.

_Darkness Gear!_

Two big, black gears appeared before Cobol and Hagurumon, then shot at Tortamon. They collided with the shell and shattered, barely slowing him. The humans scampered up a hill. Tortamon thundered by — their Digimon dove aside at the last moment. Tortamon skidded to a halt in the sand, then stumbled forward as the Hagurumon fired gear after gear at his back legs. But he did not fall.

"That Tortamon must have killed a lot of Digimon to get that strong," said Braden. He stood atop the hill and shouted, "Cobol! Hack him!"

"Distraction," said Cobol.

"Confirmed," Hagurumon said.

Hagurumon backed up, firing gear after gear into Tortamon's face as he charged again. Cobol pressed its body into the grass.

_Darkness Gear! Darkness Gear! Darkness Gear!_

Tortamon roared. He lowered his spiked head. Hagurumon retreated. Tortamon charged. One spike was primed to skewer Hagurumon. Andre cried "Look out!" And then…

_Command Input!_

Tortamon dug his head down into the sand, spikes digging deep into the sand. Hagurumon dove out of the way. Tortamon flipped end-over-end and started rolling, shell spikes ripping trenches in the ground. He teetered one last time, then rocked back onto his shell, legs stretched stiff in the air.

"Tell him to stand up," Braden said, already jogging down the hill, Andre only a hesitation behind.

Tortamon rolled onto his feet, then stood stock-still, eyes flat blue, with no pupil. Cobol's eyes glowed the same color. A faint yellow beam of light connected the two Digimon.

"Affirmative," said Cobol. "One command left."

"He's tougher than I would have guessed," Braden said. "Okay, uh, tell him to charge that boat, full speed. Just run right through it."

"Affirmative," replied Cobol.

"What's happening?" asked Andre. Tortamon turned toward the boat and snarled. Absent all restraint, he lowered his head and charged. The yellow beam stretched, then vanished, and Cobol fell flat to the ground.

"The Digital World is like a computer game," said Braden, smirking. "That means you can hack it a little." They stared at the Tortamon as it crashed through the yacht, then continued right over the edge of the cliff.

"Oh, fuck!" Andre shouted, sprinting to the cliff's edge. The others followed, Braden carrying Cobol, still unconscious, in his arms.

Andre dove to his knees, skidding to a halt and peering over the edge. Tortamon lay at the bottom, belly up, shell fractured, broken and bleeding. One of his massive blue eyes caught Andre and stared. There was only pain.

Suddenly, he burst into digital dust. A howling sea wind carried it off. And then, there was nothing.

"Hey, be careful!" said Braden, catching up, panting.

Andre's stomach clenched. He staggered back from the brink, tripping over broken wood and landing ass-first in the sand.

"He… he died," Andre said, a little distant. "And he's just f-fucking gone."

"Yup!" Braden said, beaming. "And Cobol's a little stronger now. Maybe he'll be that big soon. Isn't this cool?"

"But he's… he's fucking dead." Andre muttered.

"Oh, come on, Andre," Braden said, clapping Andre on the shoulder. "They're data. They don't die for good." Andre turned to Braden. He stared, first at Braden, then through him.

"Pardon me, Andre," said Hagurumon. "You forgot your digivice. I have retrieved it for you." Hagurumon balanced a strange device just smaller than a belt buckle on its head. Andre took the device and held it in the palm of his hand. The blueish metal casing was cold and sturdy, too heavy for its size. Andre didn't recognize the ring of symbols around the small screen.

"It is yours, Andre," said Hagurumon. "You were Chosen."

_Chosen._

The word weighed a ton. Dread bubbled up, but a little excitement peeked through.

"Chosen for what?" Andre asked. Braden, grinning, pulled a floppy disk from his pocket and held it up to Andre's face. In clean, typed letters, the label read

_For Andre & Braden,_

_Your Ticket Home,_

_Holliday_

"Holliday called me, before…" Andre started.

"Before you got sucked into the Digital World, yeah, me too!" Braden said. "Obviously, this is some super-important save-the-world mission we were chosen to complete."

"But…"

"Now I know what you're thinking," Braden continued, line of thought unbroken. "'Where can we find a computer old enough to read one of these? Well, Cobol doesn't know either, but he said there's a village about 20 miles from here, and someone there might know. So that's probably the best place for us to go right now. Sound good?"

"I guess, but…"

"Then it's settled. Let's go be heroes, Andre!" Braden marched toward the road between the hills, and Cobol followed. Andre paused.

 _Well, what choice do I have? I don't want to keep mom waiting,_  he thought as a shiver ran up his back. He looked out at the sea, took a deep breath, and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to beta-reader DigiJosify and plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Additional thanks to ThereBeWhalesHere.


	3. Chapter 3

As it set, the sun painted the all-too-even ranks of maple trees a deep golden color, each shadow pointing between two trunks. Andre turned back, pondering the dying daylight and the hilly countryside they'd crossed. A nearby creek burbled its song through the warm, calm air. Andre took a deep breath.

 _What does the sunset look like from the shore?_  His thoughts drifted.  _I've never seen a body of water that big before, at least not up close like this. I couldn't even see the other side. And those cliffs were…_  Tortamon's pained expression intruded into his reverie. He couldn't picture the cliffs without the Digimon's body broken on the rocks below. He shuddered.

"This location should provide many useful things as a place to stop, including shelter from rain, wood for a fire, and partial visual coverage for added safety, " said Hagurumon, floating up beside Andre. "I suggest we rest here."

"Concur," said Cobol, several feet behind with Braden. "Hagurumon's logic is sound." Andre shrugged.

"Fine by me," he said. The walk had given him time to process things. Whatever was going on, he at least had a goal he could worry over. "We need food and water. And a fire; I don't want to get a cold out here."

"Food and water should be plentiful in this area," said Hagurumon. "As you and Braden lack knowledge of local flora and fauna, the most logical option is for Cobol and I to gather provisions while you and Braden assemble tinder, kindling and fuel wood."

"Sure," Andre said. "Braden, anything to add?" he asked. Braden was long gone, staring into the trees, wide-eyed, lips parted in awe. Andre nudged him.

"Huh?" Braden droned before shaking his head. "Oh, that's smart! Let's do that, sure."

The Digimon floated off into the woods, without a sound. Andre stooped over next to a maple and picked up a handful of fallen twigs. They felt oily and smelled like the stuff his moms would smear on his chest when he was sick as a kid. Braden, meanwhile, stared at the rows of trees.

"This place is so cool," he said, distant. "I can't believe we were chosen to come here."

"Gonna help out?" Andre asked. Braden blinked once, then again. Something clicked; he started scanning the ground.

"So why do you think Holliday chose us?" Braden asked.

"I don't know," Andre replied, piling kindling by the base of the tree. "Does it matter? We've gotta get back home; my mom must be worried sick. My boss, too. I hope she doesn't get arrested for kidnapping or something like that."

"Yeah, that would suck," Braden allowed, picking up one stick at a time. "You have time for work? How old are you, anyway?"

"16," Andre replied, dumping his second armful on the pile. "What do you mean 'Have time for work,'?"

"Like, with extracurricular stuff for college applications," Braden said, setting down a small pile of twigs. "I'm 14 and I don't know how I'd have time to get a job. I mean, unless a bunch of my leadership stuff ends next year. But I have no idea when that happens, you know? My parents take care of all of that." He began off various clubs and charities with diction and rhythm practiced into mechanical routine.

Andre gripped the branch of a dead tree and let his knees go limp. It splintered and cracked away from the trunk.

"But here," Braden said, dropping another meager handful of tinder, "Well, it's a whole new world! I don't have to worry about any of that for now. We can do anything here!"

"Can we get firewood?" Andre interjected, cracking another branch away from the trunk. "I don't want to freeze my ass off tonight." But Braden paid him no mind, cooing over each twig as he piled it up.

* * *

The fire was small, but it was a comfort nonetheless. Braden lay curled up opposite the flames, jacket bundled as a pillow beneath his head, Cobol resting against him. Andre stared blankly into the blaze, belly full of roasted meat apples. The fruit had an unpleasant mealy texture, but they tasted just like salami from the sandwich shop. Andre sighed.

"Gotta stay focused," he muttered.

"What seems to be the problem, Andre?" Hagurumon nudged him.

"Hm? Oh, just thinking," Andre said. "I need to get back home. My mom must be worried."

"You are concerned for her well-being," Hagurumon said.

"Yeah," Andre said. "I don't want to make her worry any more than she has to." He sighed and turned to his partner Digimon. "Is the Digital World always this violent? Do Digimon kill each other all the time?" he asked.

"Tortamon's death has disturbed you," Hagurumon replied.

"I watched him die."

"He will be born again."

"Braden said that, yeah," Andre shook his head. "It's because everything's made of data, right? Because Digimon are made of data?"

"Accurate."

"So you're not… are you really alive, or what?"

"By most useful definitions, I am alive, yes."

"But you're made of data. Data can't be alive, can it?"

"What are you made of, Andre?"

"Me? Uh, skin, bones, and organs. Mostly water, with a bunch of other stuff. Atoms and molecules, if you go down really far."

"Are atoms alive?"

"No, it's," Andre bit back frustration. "Are you trying to make a point? Just tell me what you mean." Hagurumon nodded.

"My apologies. Atoms are not alive," it explained. "But you are made of atoms and you are alive. Data is not alive. But I am made of data, and I am alive. Life is an emergent property caused by the organization of materials, not a property of the materials themselves. Do you understand?"

"I guess so? I'm not sure," he said, standing, arms crossed. His gaze listed skyward. "It's just… what does 'alive' really mean, then?"

"Life is defined by several attributes: the ability to grow and change, to reproduce and to respond to external stimuli," Hagurumon replied. "That is a partial definition. Was it helpful?"

"Sort of," Andre said. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, expression neutral.

"If you elaborate on what is bothering you, I can provide more useful information."

"Well, I guess it's really what Braden and Cobol did to that Tortamon," Andre explained. He sighed and walked around the fire pit. "How are Digimon alive if you can just hijack one's brain like it's nothing?"

"To take control of another Digimon is not a common ability," Hagurumon said. "Further, as child-level Digimon, Cobol and I are limited in our ability to command other Digimon. The effort is exhausting; as you saw, Cobol was unable to sustain consciousness."

"But how are you telling a living thing to hurt itself like that?" Andre drew close to Hagurumon, his brow pinched.

"You are speaking specifically of Tortamon, so I will as well," Hagurumon said. "He was agitated after being awoken. It was not difficult for Cobol to convince him the boat was a threat to his safety. With that, the command was simple: Charge, boat, aggressive. The fact that Tortamon fell off the cliff was a consequence of that order, not the order itself. I cannot say whether or not it was the intent of the order, either. But I can say that had he been a more intelligent creature or in a different mindset, the outcome would have been different."

Andre stood and paced another anxious circle around the fire.

"You have some issue with this," Hagurumon said.

"You've known me for a few hours," Andre said, staring off into the dark. "Why do you care what I'm thinking, anyway?"

"We are partners," Hagurumon said. "Mutual understanding makes it less likely we will find some future incompatibility that is beyond our resolution. That would make it more difficult to complete our task and allow you to return home, which you have said you want to do as soon as possible. Do you find my questions too invasive? I do not wish to make you uncomfortable and create distance between us." Andre sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"You're fine," Andre said. "Just… Possessing other living things… I don't like that that's possible."

"You wish to honor others' free will if possible?"

"Yeah, I guess," Andre said. With a heavy breath, he let his arms go slack. "I don't know. I mean, Cobol kept Tortamon from hurting any of us. And he did attack us first. But it still feels wrong. Does that make sense?"

"You wish to protect those you believe have not initiated conflict, but you do not agree with Braden and Cobol's methods."

"Yeah, basically." Andre slumped into a squat and grabbed a stick to poke at the dying fire before him. "Sounds kinda silly when you say that. Braden's already got an idea of how this place works. I don't know anything, and here I am judging people who know better."

"I do not believe it is silly," Hagurumon said. "In formulating a plan of action, you may have noticed that Cobol and I will consult one another as well as you or Braden. Our rationality is bounded by our perspectives and the experiences that have formed them. Yours is the same." Andre cocked his head toward Hagurumon.

"What do you mean?"

"Your opinion is formed by experiences that are very different from mine," it said. "You have some issue with me using Command Input to control another Digimon. In the interest of accommodating your perspective into our partnership, I will choose to trust your judgement. Should I avoid using this tactic in future conflicts?"

"I'd like that, yeah," Andre allowed, "but I really don't want you or any of us to get hurt."

"Then I will refrain from using Command Input except in dire circumstances," Hagurumon said. "Is this an acceptable contingency?" Andre flopped onto his back. The stars shone bright as anything. But the constellations Andre knew were nowhere to be found. No Cassiopeia. No Big Dipper. No Polaris.

"Sounds good," he said. Then he said nothing. Hagurumon floated closer to Andre, about to speak. But Andre's eyes were closed, and he was snoring, if only faintly. Hagurumon smiled, then turned to stare into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to beta-reader DigiJosify and plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Additional thanks to ThereBeWhalesHere.


	4. Chapter 4

In the cool hours just after dawn, Andre woke to the smell of cooking sausage and rich spices, his mouth already watering.

"Hey mom," he muttered, hesitant to risk opening his eyes to daylight. "What time is it?" He sat up and stretched his arms wide.

"Not your mom, dude," a voice said. "But the sun's up, and breakfast is ready to go."

Andre eased his eyes open, letting the sunlight in slowly. He was lying in dirt, opposite a teenaged boy and several floating gears, all circled around a fire. Andre rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Right," he said, yawning. "Digital World." Braden leaned up onto his knees.

"Did you seriously just do that?" Braden asked, a little excited. "You know, the thing where you thought all the weird stuff from yesterday was just a dream and you were back home?"

"Wh- no? Why are you so excited?" Andre asked, still drowsy.

Braden shrugged.

"Never seen anyone actually do that," he said. "Well, except for on TV."

He rotated a stick with a green meat-apple over the fire. Several more apples surrounded the flames, skin crackling and spitting oil as they roasted, every drip catching and flaring.

"Anyway, breakfast's ready," Braden announced. He pulled a skewer and began blowing on his apple.

Andre took one and, carefully, bit in. The skin had a slight crispness, and the flesh snapped like fresh green apples ought to do. It tasted of pork sausage and curry, unfamiliar but friendly. Andre nearly licked the stick clean of the rivulets of seasoned fat that ran down its length. Ravenous, he devoured his first apple and half-finished a second, barely stopping to breathe. Braden snickered. Andre looked up, eyebrow arched.

"You hungry?" Braden asked past a grin, offering a steel water bottle that bore the same logo as his hoodie.

"I missed dinner," Andre said, waving off the water and returning to his apple.

"Please do not consume all of them," said Cobol. "It would be simpler to bring rations with us than to seek them out while we are traveling." Braden gave Andre a wordless thumbs-up, apple held between his teeth.

* * *

Once the four were fed and Braden's pack was stuffed with apples, they stomped the fire out and, with Cobol and Hagurumon guiding the way, marched east. The trees continued in ruler-straight diagonals, an orchard more than a forest. A breeze blew high up, but below the canopy, the still air carried the smell of camphor. It was faint, at first, but as the air grew warm, it shot to the back of the boys' sinuses. Braden tied his jacket around his face, but Andre merely wrinkled his nose; at least it wasn't pickle brine. So on they carried.

* * *

Some hours later, the orchard stopped suddenly, again in a neat row. Braden pulled his jacket from his face, and all four scanned the landscape before them. Tall brown grass covered the undulating plains, baking under the noonday sun. A path, overgrown but not yet vanished, ambled toward a thick, dark horizon that split golden field from blue sky.

"We grow near," Cobol announced. "Our destination is within that forest."

"Estimated distance is three miles," Hagurumon confirmed. Braden stuffed his jacket into his backpack, and on they walked under the beating sun.

In its patient way, the path led over a small rise. Here, Andre paused, marveling at the vastness of the plains. They stretched all the way and past the horizon, both to the north and the south, static or endless with no way to discern. Braden, sagging under his pack, trudged up behind Andre.

"It just has to be this damn hot out," he groused. Nobody said anything. "I hate summer. Where are the clouds, anyway?"

Andre shrugged and started walking again. No shade meant no reason to rest more than a moment. His jeans trapped the heat close, and sweat beaded at his hairline. But the forest was thick and dark and, hopefully much cooler.

His mind drifted back to July 4th at the sandwich shop, to the holiday lunch rush he'd helped work while the AC was out — just keep going, and the task will pass. Andre remembered how he and Janet had hit their groove and churned out sandwich after sandwich, all by muscle memory. Bread out, slice, meat, cheese, toast or no, pass to Janet, trash the gloves, wash the hands, greet while putting on the next pair of gloves and repeat, repeat, repeat for three endless hours and make some two hundred and fifty fucking sandwiches, all without letting that smile droop. Letting his mind get out of his body's way felt good.

_What's Janet doing right now? Maybe it's the lunch rush. Maybe there's a time difference. Andre's thoughts drifted._

**_More likely, she's still dealing with my disappearance._ **

Andre stared at the ground. The thought, flat and impersonal, weighed on him.

Suddenly, Braden clapped him on the shoulder.

"We're almost there!" he said. Indeed they were; Andre could spot individual pines in the looming dark of the forest. They grew close and dense, a wall of vegetation. Nearer, a lone, broad-trunked elm tree reached skyward, its leaves thick and numerous, casting a great shadow.

"Look! Shade!" Braden cheered. He jogged along the path with renewed purpose. Andre and the Digimon matched his pace, though less giddy. But as they grew near, Hagurumon took to the front of the group and blocked them off.

"There is a Digimon concealing itself behind that tree," they said. "We should approach with care." Braden stepped past Hagurumon instead and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Hey, Digimon!" he shouted. "We know you're hiding! Come on out!" Andre pressed his hand to his face.  _Seriously,_  he thought,  _you're just going to shout at it?_

Yet the Digimon complied. He was short, maybe two and a half or three feet tall, bipedal, but with features like a wolf, fur all blue and white. His eyes were closed, his furrowed brow made all the more severe by his red headband. He gestured at the four with one boxing-gloved hand and opened his big, yellow eyes.

"State your business," the Digimon said. Braden marched toward him.

"Who are you?" Braden demanded. "Why were you hiding?"

"Stop!" the Digimon shouted, shifting to a boxer's stance as Braden drew near. "Or you will feel the wrath of Gaomon!"

Andre cursed under his breath. He and their Digimon scampered up to Braden.

"We're just passing through," Andre shouted. "We don't want any trouble. Are you Gaomon?"

"I am," the Digimon replied, fists still up. "State your business."

"We're looking for information," Andre said, hands up, palms out. "We heard there's a village in this forest, and we want to know if anyone there can help us."

"Then you will go no further," Gaomon said, baring his teeth. "That village is under the protection of the Gray Lady. Her orders are clear: nobody enters uninvited."

Braden pat Cobol on the head, a cocky smirk growing on his face.

"If you want to fight, it's two on one," he said. "Cobol alone could waste you, no problem."

"The Gray Lady will protect me, and if you strike me down, she will avenge me," Gaomon shouted. "You will never see the village!"

"Oh, I am gonna enjoy this," Braden muttered, grinning. "Cobol, kick his ass!"

"Wait!" Andre shouted, jumping between Gaomon and Braden. "Calm down! We don't have to fight!"

"Come on, Andre, Cobol's gonna destroy this guy like nothing!" Braden pleaded.

"No!" Andre shouted. He turned to Gaomon. "Look, maybe you can help us. We just need to find a computer."

"What are you saying?" Gaomon asked, narrowing his eyes. Andre took a deep breath.

"Exactly what I mean. We're looking for a computer," Andre said. "If you know where one is, we don't need to go anywhere near your village. We get what we want, you've done your job, and we all walk away happy." Gaomon furrowed his brow.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

Silence ruled the hot, still air.

And then Andre had an idea.

"Braden, give me an apple," he said.

"What? Why?" Braden asked.

"Come on, help me out on this," Andre hissed. Braden locked eyes with Gaomon, then dropped his bag to the ground. After a moment of rooting around, he pulled out a cooked green meat-apple and offered it to Andre, who snatched it up.

"Here," Andre said. He gripped the apple with both hands and twisted it in half. One half, he offered to Gaomon. The other, he bit, chewing and swallowing a small piece of the spiced meat-fruit.

Gaomon reached out, then hesitated, scrutinizing Andre. The boy did nothing. After a moment, Gaomon took the apple and bit in. He chewed, swallowed, then waited.

Breath in, breath out.

The Digimon ate the rest of the halved apple in one bite, barely chewing. He swallowed, then nodded, still serious.

"So, you don't mean me harm," Gaomon said, bowing his head.

"Yeah, we don't want to hurt anyone," Braden answered. "Not if we don't have to." Andre bit his tongue. Instead of retorting, he stepped forward, hand extended to the canine Digimon.

"My name's Andre," he said. "He's Braden. These are our Digimon, Hagurumon and Cobol."

"Hello, Andre," Gaomon answered, still steely-faced but shaking Andre's hand with vigor. "I think you are right. We can all walk away from this unharmed. But I don't know where you'd find a computer around here."

Andre bit his lip, thinking, planning.

"What about the Gray Lady? Could she help us?"

"Possibly, but I can't leave this path unguarded," Gaomon said. He rubbed his muzzle for a moment. "My relief comes in two hours. Stand guard with me, and I can bring her here after that."

Before Andre could say anything, Braden put a hand on his shoulder.

"Chosen and partners huddle," he said. "Give us one second to talk this over." Gaomon nodded.

The four gathered in a tight circle, well away from Gaomon and the shade of the tree.

"We need a game plan," Braden said. "That apple move was slick, but we still have no reason to trust this guy."

"We have no reason to doubt him, either," Andre said.

"It is not my area of expertise, but based on his body language, I do not believe he is lying," Hagurumon offered.

"Affirmative," Cobol added. "Further, he is not very strong. I will override him should he show any indication he intends to betray us."

"That's a great plan. Thanks, Cobol," Braden said, beaming. "Aren't our Digimon smart?"

Andre nodded. _It still seems wrong,_  he thought,  _but I don't want to hurt a Digimon if we don't have to._  He said nothing.

"Okay, so we give him a chance, and if he turns on us, Cobol takes him over and makes him wipe out his buddies. No objections?" Braden asked, looking around the circle. "Then it's a plan." He patted Andre and Cobol before turning toward Gaomon.

"Hey, Gaomon!" he called. "You've got a deal!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to beta-reader DigiJosify and plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Additional thanks to ThereBeWhalesHere.


	5. Chapter 5

Minutes became hours as the afternoon gave slow way to evening. Andre sat beneath the spreading elm tree, staring at the red fabric in his hand. Gaomon's relief, a Kokuwamon, reminded Andre of a giggly stun gun. He'd buzzed out of the forest some time ago, maybe an hour, maybe longer. Before leaving, Gaomon presented his headband to Andre as a sign of good faith.

 _Why did he trust us so easily?_  Andre pondered.  _We're strangers who all but threatened to kill him. All I did was give him an apple._ He gazed north, across the endless golden hills.  _Maybe he just wants to help. Or maybe he thinks the Gray Lady's strong enough to destroy us if we're trying to trick him._

Andre found himself alone with his nerves. The Kokuwamon stood guard high up in the tree, humming like a transformer. Hagurumon and Cobol frolicked, or did what Andre guessed might be frolicking, in the distance. Braden napped under the shade of the tree.

Gaomon and the Gray Lady provided him with something immediate to worry over, at least. He could go full half-hour stints without worrying about Celine, wondering how far she was into filing a missing persons report, how many tears she'd already have cried for him, what she might be doing to cope. He cut off these reveries by focusing on the problem at hand, by thinking, rethinking and overthinking what Gaomon might be planning. So the thoughts cycled through his head, gears with nothing to grip. He sighed and stuffed the headband into a pocket.

A branch snapped from within the woods. Andre shot to his feet, shaking off the stillness and jabbing Braden in the back with his foot. Gaomon emerged from the trees, followed by a hooded figure in a ragged gray cloak. Beneath the cloak, the figure wore a loose-fitting olive green shirt and pants, both clearly handmade. A foot-long knife in a hide sheath hung from the figure's waist. Andre called for Hagurumon and Cobol. They all gathered under the tree.

"My lady, these are the strangers I told you about," Gaomon said. He bowed. "May I present the Gray Lady, guardian of the secret village, champion of the deep woods, protector of the Caprimon, strongest among the legendary Hue-mon, hero of… "

"That's plenty, Gaomon," said the Gray Lady, removing her hood. She was human, a woman, maybe 30, features like weathered terra cotta, black hair cut short. "I've never seen other humans in the Digital World before. Who are you, and how did you get here?"

"Hello, miss!" Braden reached his hand out, posture straighter than usual. "My name is Braden Murray. It is a pleasure to meet you." He gripped her hand like a businessman and shook vigorously. "This is my Digimon, Cobol."

Cobol bowed in his way.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," it said.

"And these are our associates, Andre LeDoux and his Hagurumon."

"Associates?" she asked.

"Yes, in this… endeavor we've been entrusted with," Braden explained. "May I ask your name?"

"Carmen," she replied, visibly confused. "What are you talking about? How did you even get here? "

"Ah, yes, I will explain," Braden said. Gaomon gave him a suspicious look. "Well, we have this disk we were given when we arrived in the Digital World," he began, producing it from his pocket. "There's some information on it from the individual who selected us. We don't know what it is, but we need to find out so we're able to accomplish the mission he's selected us for and return home. For that, we need your help to find a computer old enough to read it." His tone shifted from stiff to self-important. "We're probably saving the world or something like that, so you should really help us out."

Carmen stared at Braden, one eyebrow arched. Her face read confusion, suspicion, and something else Andre couldn't quite discern. Disappointment, maybe? He sucked his lip for a moment.

"Oh, hey Gaomon," Andre said, making a show of pulling the red fabric from his pocket. "This is yours." He handed the headband back to the visibly grateful Digimon. Carmen's expression softened, just a little.

"HI, Carmen," he said, more casual. "I'm surprised you're a human like us. How did you come to the Digital World? Did Holliday send you here too?"

"Who?" she asked.

"He's the individual who brought us here," Braden interjected.

"We don't really know who he is," Andre added. "We've never met him face-to-face. He sucked me here through my phone."

Carmen's eyes flashed over to Andre. She grasped his shoulders and glared right through him.

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened before you came here," she said. Her words were sudden and exact. Andre was too shocked to move for a moment. He stammered, unable to form a word.

"Hey, let him go!" Braden said, arm already outstretched to intervene. Carmen shot her glare at him, and he wilted. She took a long, deep breath, then returned her attention to Andre.

"You're looking for a computer, right?" Her tone was a little calmer. Andre nodded. "Okay. I can help you. But I need you to tell me what happened before you came here." Again, Andre nodded. Carmen stepped back and crossed her arms. Andre composed himself, then started.

"Okay. I was at work, looking for my phone…"

"So it was a cell phone?" Carmen interrupted.

"Yeah," Andre said. "Yeah, it was. Someone called me, and I found it behind some boxes. The Caller ID said Holliday, like the name on the disk, and the phone number was… I don't remember, but it wasn't a real phone number. But I answered it, and someone asked who I was. He sounded Southern, maybe like he was from Texas? Anyway, my phone started glowing bright blue, and I covered my eyes because it was so bright. The next thing I knew, I was on a beach, and my phone turned into this thing." Andre pulled out his digivice and offered it to Carmen. She took it and turned it over in her hands. Then, she pressed the buttons a few times, staring at the screen. Nothing happened.

"Weird," she said, handing it back to Andre. "But you spoke with someone, probably this Holliday guy? What did he say?"

"He asked who I was…"

"Like, 'Who are you?'"

"No, like, he knew my name, but he wanted to make sure it was me," Andre said.

"Okay," she said, searching the ground as if for answers. She looked at Andre again. "Did you hear anything else on the other end?"

"Breathing, maybe like someone clicking a mouse?" Andre shrugged.

"Nothing else?"

"No, I'm sorry," Andre said. "Are you stuck here like us?" Carmen sighed, closing her eyes. A pause, weighted, then nothing. She looked at Andre.

"There's a big power plant around three days' walk south of here," she said. "I haven't been there in a long time, but I saw a big computer in the security office when I was there last. That's your best bet. At southern edge of the forest, there's a big stone road that leads right to the front gate. Gaomon, you know where the road starts. Will you take them there for me?" She turned to the Digimon.

Gaomon was fixed on the forest, stock-still, pupils pinprick-small, fur standing on end. Already, he was in a boxing stance.

"What's wrong?" Carmen asked, following his glare. Gaomon snarled, baring a sharp canine tooth. Andre looked around — Hagurumon and Cobol had also turned toward the forest. Their gears were still, and like Gaomon, their eyes were shuttered tight.

"A very large Digimon is approaching," Hagurumon said. In the distance, they heard a thunderous tearing, then felt a thud. Then another. Then a cacophony of snapping and splintering.

Carmen drew her knife. Its single sharp edge gleamed in the evening sun.

"Run," she said. "Gaomon, take them south, now."

Andre felt a deep quivering in his stomach — terror and its cousin nausea. His legs went leaden, heavy and dead. He looked over to Hagurumon, who hadn't moved; to Cobol, who'd floated in front of Braden; then to Braden, who grinned with glee. He met Andre's gaze and nodded like a bobblehead.

"This is gonna be awesome!" he said.

"What are you kids doing? Run!" Carmen shouted. But Braden shook his head.

"Nah, we're Chosen," he said. "Gotta do the hero thing, right?"

Before anyone could respond, a loud roar rippled through the air. Then, a snapping — and a deafening crack. Two evergreens lurched away from vertical, then fell. They revealed a massive blue dinosaur Digimon, standing upright. Its arms ended in heads instead of claws, one a horned skull, the other crocodilian and mechanical.

Andre stumbled backwards, agape. Carmen, knife out, took off running away from the Chosen, waving her arms and shouting, drawing the huge Digimon's attention away. Kokuwamon flew behind her.

"That is Deltamon," said Cobol. "Braden, will you assist me in defeating this enemy?"

Braden nodded.

"RUN!" Carmen screamed.

"Come on, Andre," he said. "You and Hagurumon ready to fight?" Andre stared at Braden, dismayed.

"We should be going," Gaomon interjected. Carmen had nearly reached the edge of the woods, but she'd gotten Deltamon's attention. The Digimon was following her, all jaws snapping.

"Andre," Hagurumon said. "We can defeat Deltamon. Do you trust me?"

Andre nodded, aspirating a quiet "okay."

"I mean this very seriously, Andre," Hagurumon said. "Do you trust me?"

Andre held a breath. The events of the past day raced through his mind.  _Everything about this is crazy_ ,  _but I really don't have a choice._

"I trust you," he said, steeling himself. Hagurumon smiled. Braden cheered.

A white glow erupted from both boys' pockets. Andre and Braden pulled out their digivices, the source of the light. Then, Hagurumon and Cobol began glowing, brighter than spotlights. Andre covered his eyes with his arm. Even Deltamon recoiled.

Then Andre felt a big, metal hand rest on his shoulder. The stocky brass-and-copper robot had Hagurumon's eyes.

"I am Guardromon now," they said. Andre nodded.

"Braden," Cobol said, now all steel and much larger, with one wide, fleshy eye. "As Mechanorimon, I need you to pilot me." A blue dome atop Cobol's head opened, and he lifted Braden up to his cockpit.

With a jet-engine roar, both Mechanorimon and Guardromon lifted off, nearly knocking Andre off his feet

_Destruction Grenade!_

Two missiles exploded against the back of Deltamon's head. The huge Digimon staggered forward, roaring in pain. Carmen ducked behind a tree as Deltamon turned to face the incoming Digimon. Light glowed in all three of its mouths.

_Triplex Force!_

Three bursts of blue light shot forth from its mouths. Mechanorimon flew higher, and Guardromon dropped to the ground. Deltamon's mouths began glowing again. Suddenly, it roared out in pain, one leg giving out.

"Finish him off!" Carmen shouted, pulling her knife from the back of its knee and retreating back into the trees.

_Destruction Grenade!_

Two more explosions caught Deltamon's other leg. It crashed face-first to the ground with a thud.

_Twinkle Beam!_

Mechanorimon's laser pierced Deltamon's head. It shuddered, then lay still. And then, it vanished, dust on the wind.

"Your partners really are strong," Gaomon said, patting Andre on the arm.

"Yeah…"

Guardromon and Mechanorimon landed near the tree. Braden climbed out of Mechanorimon's head and jumped to the ground. He stood for a moment, visibly shaking, then collapsed to his knees.

"Holy shit, Andre!" he shouted. "That was the coolest thing I've ever done!" Laughing, he flopped onto his back, sprawling out in the thinning grass. As Andre jogged over, the two Digimon glowed brightly, then turned back into Hagurumon.

"Thank you for trusting me, Andre," said Hagurumon. Andre nodded.

"I didn't know you could do something like that," he replied, a little shaky.

Carmen ran up, knife sheathed, expression serious. All eyes fixed on her.

"Gaomon, we have to go," she said. Gaomon went stock-stiff.

"It came out of the forest," Gaomon muttered. "The village might have been attacked." Carmen nodded, turned and ran toward the path of destruction Deltamon tore through the forest. Gaomon followed close behind. Braden then stood and took off jogging after them, Cobol floating close behind.

"C'mon, let's help them!" he called back. Andre looked to Hagurumon, who nodded. And so they ran.

Some minutes later, Kokuwamon flew out of the trees, where it had hidden from the fight. Giggling and arcing, it returned to its perch, where it watched twilight fall across the dark evergreen forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to beta-reader DigiJosify and plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Additional thanks to ThereBeWhalesHere. Thank you for reading — feel free to leave a comment or reach out if you enjoyed the story. See you in two weeks!


	6. Chapter 6

Though Andre, Braden and their Digimon had lost sight of Gaomon and Carmen some minutes ago, they moved quickly as they could, clambering over stumps and broken trees. The full moon made it easy to follow the trail Deltamon had torn through the forest. Still, Andre was uneasy. This forest was different from the ones he knew from home. The trees were too close together, stunted evergreens weaving a low, thick canopy. Below, all was pitch dark, ruled by naked branches, wet decay, and heavy silence.

"Look," Braden said, pointing. He winced as his voice echoed through the forest. Andre came closer.

"It's a trail," Braden whispered. "See? Doesn't look like anyone's maintaining it, but it's really well-used, that's for sure."

"Do you think Carmen and Gaomon went that way?" Andre asked, hushed.

"Possibly," Cobol announced at full volume, floating close. The humans winced again. "It is all but certain they have built a direct path to their village. Given the opportunity, it is all but certain they would take a direct path to ensure Deltamon has not attacked their village. But we have no way of knowing where that trail leads."

"Can you tell if they took that path?" Andre whispered.

"Unlikely," Hagurumon said, voice a little quieter. "We are not equipped with any tracking sensors. We would have no advantage in tracking them over you or Braden."

"What if we made it easy for you?"

With a scream, Andre and Braden flattened themselves to the ground as best they could.

"Andre," Hagurumon began, "I can now confirm with certainty that our quarries did take that path."

Sheepish, Andre sat up and scanned the forest. Carmen and Gaomon stood across the way. In her hand, Carmen held a bright green glowstick.

Andre tugged at Braden's jacket, and the four scrambled toward her.

"Hello!" Braden began, dropping into his stilted diction from earlier. "I'm glad we were able to find you. Is your village unharmed?"

"Everything is fine!" Gaomon said. "Deltamon didn't come anywhere near it."

"Yeah, we're really lucky," Carmen said. She pause. "Listen, do you four have somewhere safe to sleep?"

They shook their heads.

"That's what I thought," she said. "We've got some spare beds in the village. You can stay there tonight, on two conditions."

"Please, continue," Braden asked, crossing his arms.

"... right, anyway, obviously, don't talk about the village. Don't tell people how to get there or what's inside. Nothing. Anyone asks, you were never here. That's one. Can you do that?"

They nodded.

"Okay, good. Number two, I feel like I should help you with whatever it is you were brought here to do," she said. She grew distant, eyes on the moon. "You're the only other humans I've seen here. I don't think we met by chance."

She was silent for a moment. Then, she shook herself from her reverie.

"Anyway, I want to help, but I'm stretched pretty thin keeping the village safe. Let's talk in the morning and see what we can do to help each other."

"That doesn't sound like much of a condition," Andre said.

"It isn't," she said. Nobody spoke for a moment.

"Your terms sound reasonable to me," Braden said. "Andre? Cobol? Hagurumon? Do her terms sound reasonable?"

All three nodded.

"You've got a deal," Braden said, offering his hand. Carmen shook, then, without another word, turned and walked down the path.

The even ground gave way to steep hills and cliffs as the six followed the path through the midnight woods. Though the trees grew sparser and taller, no moonlight found the ground. Carmen led the group with what was certainly the brightest glowstick Andre had ever seen. The group walked in near-silence through the oppressive dark, always down, down, down.

And then, after some time, the trail flattened. Slowly, the trees thinned. Narrow shafts of moonlight cut through the dark. Soon, in the distance, Andre could see a golden light.

"The village," Andre said.

"That's right!" Gaomon said, excited. "Welcome to Caprimon village."

They soon stepped into a big clearing, studded with humble wooden buildings. At the center stood a big stone cathedral, pinkish under the moonlight, with a single massive square bell tower. The light shone from the window on the front of the tower.

"Wow, that's so big!" Braden said. "Did you and the villagers build it?"

"No," Carmen said. "The Caprimon found it a long time ago. C'mon, you four can stay in the barracks with the guards." She walked to the great doors of the cathedral, opened them wide, and invited the group in.

The interior was cavernous, all sandstone and high arches. Its ceilings were draped with crimson velvet. The main room was lined with alcoves hosting altar after altar, the moonlight and stained glass painting ghostly rainbows throughout. Andre's footsteps echoed as he walked between the rich, dark pews. Near the pulpit, Andre saw rows of simple bunk beds, their metal tube frames painted dark green. They reminded Andre of those movies about the Vietnam War his moms were only sort of comfortable letting him watch. Less than half of them held blanket-covered Digimon-shaped lumps.

"You've got your choice of beds," Carmen said, gesturing. "Bathroom's down the hall if you need it."

"I call top bunk," Braden said, already halfway up a rickety ladder.

Andre said nothing. His attention was elsewhere. He'd never been in a cathedral before — nothing like this, at least. He ambled up to the altar, a marble dais before a wall of golden sculptures that extended to the high arched ceiling.

Beautiful as it was, that's not what caught his eye. His attention was drawn to the pulpit. It didn't belong. It was humble, an old, heavily varnished wooden thing with neither ornamental carvings nor gilded details. Carved letters across the front read "παράκλητος."

"Hey, Carmen?" he asked, turning. But she was gone.

Where'd she go? He looked around the room. Hagurumon and Cobol were already fast asleep in one of the bunks. Gaomon tugged at a blanket covering another Kokuwamon guard. The Kokuwamon rolled from its high bed, wings catching before it hit the floor, and buzzed out of the room, half-awake. Braden hung his head over the edge of his own bed, lost in thought.

"Hey, Braden, did you see where she went?" Andre asked. Braden didn't answer. Andre walked over and waved his hand across Braden's face.

"Huh?" Braden asked. "What's up?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Braden said, sitting up. "What do you mean?"

"You get kinda," Andre began, pausing to search for a word. "I dunno, space-y at night."

"Oh," Braden said, wilting. "Yeah, well, I do better when I have something to focus on."

"Sorry. I didn't mean anything by that," Andre said, walking over. "Should've kept my mouth shut." Braden flopped onto his back and gazed at, into, past the ceiling.

"Nah, you're not wrong," Braden said. "But this place, this world… it's so cool! I gotta sit back and take it in when I can, you know?"

"Don't you want to get home?" Andre leaned against the bedframe.

"Yeah, eventually," Braden said, gesturing. "But, like, think about what happened this afternoon." He flopped onto his stomach and pointed at the other set of bunks, where Cobol and Hagurumon had already fallen asleep. "Cobol — that little gear guy, right over there — turned into a big metal mech suit, and we beat up a three-headed dinosaur. How cool was that?!"

"It was pretty cool," Andre allowed. "Alright, yeah, that was fucking cool."

"Right?!" Braden gripped the edge of the bed and stared intently at Andre. "We fought and got stronger, and now our little buddies, our partners, can transform into kick-ass robots that fly and shoot actual real lasers and missiles. I don't get how you want to leave all this so soon!"

"I gotta take care of my mom," Andre said, scratching his head. "She wasn't doing so well when I left."

"I'm sorry. Is she really sick or something?" Braden asked.

"Kinda." Andre gripped his arm. "I don't like talking about it."

"Okay by me," Braden said.

"I just want to get this done and go home," Andre continued.

"Sure, makes sense," Braden said, propping himself up on his elbows. "Gotta do what you gotta do."

"Exactly," Andre said. "I can't be away from home too long. I have responsibilities. We need to give Holliday whatever he wants so I can get back before something goes wrong."

"Mhm," Braden said, rolling onto his back. "If we keep our Digimon fighting, they can get stronger, too. That'll make it go faster, right?"

"I guess that makes sense, sure," Andre said.

"Then it's win-win," Braden said. "You get home, I get cool Digimon battles."

"And as long as you four are in the village, we're all a little safer," Gaomon interjected. He padded across the floor and leaned against the end of the humans' bunk.

"Yeah you are." Braden chuckled, satisfied.

"I thought you were going to sleep," Andre said. "Did we wake you?"

"No, you didn't," Gaomon said. He wrung his gloved hands. "I was listening to your conversation. The Gray Lady is the only Hue-mon I've ever seen before, and she doesn't talk about your kind much."

"You're curious about us?" Andre asked.

"Mhm!" Gaomon said. "I've known the Gray Lady since I was just a Wanyamon, but she had already digivolved into her current form."

"Uh, humans don't really work like that," Andre said. "We don't change shape as much as Digimon do."

"Oh, I know," Gaomon said. "The Gray Lady has told me that much already. But she could already fight off adult Digimon with that knife when we met. So that's how I think of her: as an adult-level Digimon, you know?"

"I guess that makes sense," Andre said. "How long has she been here, anyway?"

"She's been protecting the village for about five years," Gaomon said.

"Wait, how long?" Andre stiffened, eyes wide.

"We celebrate the fifth anniversary of her arrival at the village in a few weeks," Gaomon said, beaming.

"Man, how long has she been here?" Braden pondered aloud. Andre sat on his mattress and stared, empty, at the floor.

_How long are we going to be here?_

"I'm not sure," Gaomon said. "She doesn't like talking about the past."

 _Calm down, Andre,_  he thought. _You don't know why or how Carmen got here. Just because she might be the only other human in the Digital World doesn't mean what happened to her has anything to do with what happened to you._

"Kinda makes you wonder what her deal is, huh?" Braden asked. "Like, why is she here? How did it happen?"

_Braden's right. We have no idea how she got here. It might have been something totally different. There's no reason to freak out. There's no reason to think it could happen to you._

"Andre, are you okay?" Gaomon asked. Andre hadn't noticed the Digimon was standing right in front of him.

"Me?" Andre asked. "I'm fine, just tired." Gaomon scrutinized Andre's expression for a moment.

"You helped the Gray Lady out with a big fight today," he said. "I should give you space to rest. Wake me up if you need anything."

* * *

Andre didn't get the sort of nightmares he thought were real. If pressed, he would compare the feeling to the Ludovico Technique — strapped down, unable to shut his eyes or turn his head. He had the sort of nightmares where knowing he was asleep didn't make much of a difference.

The scene played out in silence. Celine was much older, hair streaked with gray. She sat alone at the little table in the apartment, nursing a bottle of Yukon Jack, eyes puffy and red. The carpet was littered with ragged-edged pages, ripped free from paperbacks. Celine, unsteady, shuffled her way through them like autumn leaves. She pulled a tube of pink lipstick — Ruby's brand — from her pocket and sloppily scrawled something on the living room wall.

_How frail the human heart must be — a mirrored pool of thought._

She looked over her words and found them to be enough. Then, task accomplished, she slumped against the wall and drank bitter respite from the bottle.

The dream cut to a cold, foggy cliffside. Andre saw an older version of himself hunched up before a fire, back to the fractured remains of a red-and-white yacht. He looked exactly like his grandfather, Celine's dad, Marcus. Older Andre had a clean goatee and irregular dreadlocks, and he was wrapped in a blue Navy surplus jacket. He was alone.

Older Andre's eyes fixed on something clutched tightly within his hands. His expression was pinched, cold and bitter. A tear traced the lines of his face. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, breathing heavily.

Suddenly, older Andre swore and struck the hull of the yacht with his fist. He stood, turned, punched the wood straight on, dropping what he'd held. A left, right, left. Sound and fury, all impotent force. Every impact rebounded and resonated, only making older Andre angrier. Blood flecked the wood, but he didn't feel the pain.

Out of breath, he turned and grabbed the object in the sand. He hurled it at the fire, where it stuck, then he screamed in frustration.

In the fire, melting, was Holliday's floppy disk.

* * *

Andre heard a shushing in his ear as he flashed back to consciousness, heart racing. There was a hand cupped loosely over his mouth. He flailed his fists at the unknown assailant.

"Andre, calm down," the voice whispered. "It's me — it's Gaomon. I'm not trying to hurt you."

Andre turned and stared. It was indeed the blue Digimon who stood by his bunk. Gaomon pulled back and held his paws in the air.

"Gaomon?!" Andre said incredulously. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Shhh!" Gaomon shushed. "You were having a nightmare, and you just started screaming. I didn't want you to wake the whole barracks."

"Wait, what?" Andre sat up in his bed.

"You looked like you were trying to tear your blanket in half," Gaomon said.

"Were you watching me sleep?"

Gaomon stared elsewhere across the room, momentarily flustered.

"Wh-no!" he said. "I heard you thrashing in your bed, and I came over to check on you."

Andre sighed.  _Just be glad you didn't wake anyone else up,_  he thought.

"Thanks, Gaomon," he said.

"You're welcome," Gaomon said. "But, uh, I think you were dishonest with me before. Are you really okay?"

Again, Andre took a calming breath.

"I'm just worried," he said.

"I find bottling up worries can just make them worse. May I sit?" Gaomon asked. Andre nodded. Gaomon hoisted himself onto the edge of the bed.

"Well, my mom is waiting for me at home," Andre said. "I'm from… has Carmen ever told you where she's from?'

"She has," Gaomon said. "She's from a place called Earth, from a city by a lake of salt. She doesn't know exactly how far it is, but there aren't any Digimon there, only Hue-mons, so it must be pretty far." Andre blinked.

"Uh, yeah, that's… yeah, I'm from Earth too. A city called Denver. But, uh, anyway, did you hear what I was telling Braden about my mom?"

"I did. She's in poor health?"

"Yeah, she is." Andre paused..

"You're worried she'll get worse if you're away and can't take care of her?"

"Yeah," Andre sighed. "She needs me. And she has no idea where I am or what I'm doing. Worrying about me is only going to make things worse, too." He punched his mattress, exasperated. "I just want to hurry up and figure out what this Holliday guy wants so I can get it done and go home. That's all there is to it."

Gaomon nodded.

"You have a noble heart, Andre," he said. "And you helped protect my village. So I promise you, I will do whatever I can to help get you home. It's what the Gray Lady would want." Gaomon hopped to the floor.

"Thanks, Gaomon," Andre said. He swallowed his frustration and forced a smile. "I'm sure you make her proud."

Gaomon's fur hid his blush, but his bashful smile did him no favors. It took a second for him to overcorrect, standing stock-still and stiff.

"Thank you," he said, curtly, and marched over to his bed. In spite of the static prickling at the edge of Andre's nerves, he smirked at the Digimon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to beta -reader DigiJosify and plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Thanks also to ThereBeWhalesHere.


	7. Chapter 7

Daylight didn't do much to brighten the interior of the old cathedral. It made sense for a barracks, dim enough to sleep day or night. Andre rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up in his bunk. Dust danced across the glass-stained sunbeams. All was still as he surveyed his surroundings.

Out in the pews, there was a form, head bowed. It was Carmen.

Andre eased himself out of his bed, the marble floor cool under his feet. He padded his way down the aisle. Carmen's hands were pressed together in prayer, her lips fluttering now and again. She didn't react when Andre lowered himself into the pew, a few feet down from her.

He watched for a moment, then turned away, self-conscious. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling above, sinking into stillness.

After a moment, Carmen opened her eyes. Slowly, she sat up, crossing her hands in her lap. For the length of a breath, she stayed like that, lingering in some inner peace, before she turned to face Andre.

"Good morning," she said. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks," he replied. "I hope I wasn't interrupting."

"You're fine."

"Good. Don't want to, uh, throw off your focus."

"No risk of that. Are you not much of a churchgoer?"

"Not me, no."

"What's with that shirt, then? Looks like it's from a youth ministry."

Andre raised an eyebrow, then looked down at his chest. Wordlessly, he sank into himself.  _I had to wear this fucking shirt, didn't I?_  It was gray, printed with an abstract angelic figure bowing its head above the words "Angels in America."

"It's from some play," he mumbled. "I don't know what it's about, but my Ma built a set for it when I was a kid. It's nothing." He crossed his ankles. "Just a t-shirt."

"Tender subject?"

He said nothing.

"Anyway, you weren't interrupting anything serious, if you wanted to know," she said. "I guess I'm Catholic, but I'm not sure if I count anymore. It's more like I'm going over what's bothering me than asking for help. Besides, praying feels appropriate here."

"Just kinda what you do when you live in a church?'

"Well, that too, but I was baptized here."

Andre turned, confused.

"In the Digital World?"

"Huh? Oh, no! No, this cathedral is the same as one back on Earth. Or, it's similar. Some things are very different."

"Like that pulpit up there?"

"Yeah, exactly. That's all Digital World." She smiled and pointed to the side of the dais. "Right over there. I was only a kid when I saw it, but the real pulpit at Catedral de San Juan Bautista is gorgeous."

"Where's that?"

"Badajoz. That's in Spain. My mom was baptized there, so she brought me and…" She stopped suddenly, crossing her arms and deflating. Andre noticed her clench her teeth, just a little. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Digimon don't have a lot of context for this kind of thing."

"I really don't either," Andre said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but you've heard of Catholicism."

"Point taken. How long have you been in the Digital World, anyway?"

"A long time," she said. "I don't really keep track."

A loud yawn echoed through the cathedral. Braden stretched and sat up in bed. Carmen stood and walked purposefully toward the pulpit.

"Time to get to work," she announced. She parted and passed through a curtain next to the wall of golden statues. "You'll want shoes. Bring Braden when he's awake. And the floppy disk."

* * *

Andre and Braden watched every step they took down the steep, well-worn stone stairs. The staircase was claustrophobic, walled by layers of stone, then by solid concrete. Some thirty feet down, it opened on a dim, cool room, lit more by a small bank of cathode ray monitors than the single light bulb which hung from the ceiling. A small bed in the corner was piled with olive green blankets. The room was packed with crates and containers; Andre couldn't tell how much of the room was lost to storage. One wall of was dominated by piles of old computing equipment, all interconnected by a tangle of cables and wires, all blinking and whirring away. At their center sat a plastic folding table, which held a conventional home computer.

"Hey, you said the closest computer was three days away!" Braden accused.

"I lied," Carmen said, bluntly. Braden opened and closed his mouth like an outraged fish, hunting the right words for a response.

"Why would you do that?"

"I hadn't decided to trust you yet," she said. "You can thank Gaomon for convincing me."

"That's a huge computer," Andre observed. "What do you use it for?"

"A couple of things," she said. "Mostly, it helps me keep track of the guards and any threats they find. Did you bring that floppy disk?"

Braden produced the disk from his jacket pocket. Carmen took it and slid it into the computer. Soon, a ping echoed through the room. On the monitor, a window popped up, showing the contents of the disk. Inside were two files: a zipped archive called " " and a clearly marked readme file. Carmen opened the latter.

At the top of the file was an ASCII picture of an old man with a cowboy hat, the same one from the error message on Andre's phone. Below, the text read:

 

> To: Braden and Andre.
> 
> Welcome to the Digital World — sort of. This disk contains y'all's ticket home, but I need you to do something for me first.
> 
> By now, Hagurumon has told the two of y'all that y'all are inside something like a computer program. Now it ain't that simple, but it's enough for y'all to understand the basics. Just don't go running around like y'all can't get hurt or any fool thing like that.
> 
> Short version, this program is of the highest importance, so I made a backup copy, just in case. It's a secret. Even my boss doesn't know it exists. That's where y'all are, on my backup server.
> 
> On August 1, 1999, my boss's boss was doing a major data transfer between Earth and the main Digital World server. Partway through, I found an anomaly in the backup program. My best guess is that we sucked up some poor housecat and things went screwy when it bounced off the firewall around the main program.
> 
> Y'all's job is to find the source of the anomalous reading, figure out what happened, and report back for further instructions. This disk has everything y'all should need. There's a data log from around the time we found the anomaly so y'all have some idea of what happened, all sorts of maps of both the backup server and the main one, and a secure messaging program for when y'all are ready to check in. That last one, that's my pride and joy. Took me most of the last 13 years to get it working right.
> 
> There's a password on that file, just in case this disk gets intercepted. Obviously, it'd defeat the purpose to put it on the same disk, but I have a hint: the password is both of y'all's middle names, all lower-case letters, all jumbled together like gibberish. It may take a little while for y'all to figure it out, but that's what computers are for.
> 
> Y'all have your digivices and Digimon partners if you get in any scuffles, but there ain't too much big and dangerous in this version of the Digital World. Y'all are big fish in a piddly little pond.  
>  But there's oceans out there. Big ones. And if there's any kind of security breach, any unsecured connection to Earth or the main program, well, y'all just might wake something up. Be careful.
> 
> — Holliday

Andre and Braden stared at the screen for a moment.

"So…" Braden began. "We don't know what we're looking for."

"Neither does Holliday," Andre said.

"But there's info that might tell us in that file."

"Which we don't have the password for."

"So that's what we need first. What's your middle name, Andre?"

"Cambridge," he said. "You?"

"It's Connor, but it's the traditional Irish spelling, so it's like ten letters," Braden replied. "C-o-n-c-h-o-b-h-a-r."

"Well, that's…" Andre counted in his head for a moment. "Nineteen letters."

"That's a long password," Braden said.

"I can help," Carmen said, turning away from the screen. "I have a powerful computer. You've got strong Digimon. Want to help guard the village while I try to get into this file?"

"Was this what you had in mind last night?" Braden asked.

"Basically," she answered. "Like I said, I'm not sure you came here by chance. I haven't seen another human…" Andre noticed her jaw tighten as she briefly paused. "Since I came here."

 _Since you last saw your family?_  Andre wondered.

"Helping is just kinda what you think you should do right now?" Andre asked, offering an out.

"Something like that," she said, her tone guarded. She regarded at Andre for a moment, expression neutral. "Look, the PawnChessmon should have started serving breakfast in the courtyard," she said, addressing both boys. "Go eat, then report to Gaomon for your assignments. He'll pair you off with someone to train you."

"Yes ma'am," Braden said, practically saluting. He turned and started for the stairs.

"How long will you need?" Andre asked.

"If I'm lucky? I might have it this afternoon," she said. "If I have to brute force it, that could take months, maybe years."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Andre said, turning to leave.

Carmen said something under her breath Andre couldn't quite catch. She turned to her monitor, cracked her fingers and began typing.

* * *

Andre found Braden waiting partway up the dark staircase.

"There you are," Braden said, hushed. "We lucked out big-time finding her."

"Maybe," Andre whispered. "She's not telling us everything."

"Duh," Braden said. "But that's not what I'm talking about." He continued up the stairs and motioned for Andre to follow. "I think she's who Holliday wants us to find. I think she's the anomaly."

"Wait, what?"

"Think about it. She's been here for years. As far as we know, she's the only human here besides us. She doesn't have a Digimon partner, so she probably wasn't brought here like us. And Holliday dropped us pretty close to her, too." He crested the top of the stairs. "It's like she said: we're not here by chance."

"Pretty sure that's not how she meant it," Andre said. "But you have a point."

"See?"

"But wouldn't she recognize August 1 as the day she got sucked into a computer program 13 years ago?"

They entered the barracks, where a few of the Digimon were stirring. Some of the beds were already emptied and re made. Cobol and Hagurumon were still asleep.

"Let's grab them breakfast; they probably need the extra sleep after the fight yesterday," Andre suggested. Braden nodded.

"What was the date when you came here?" Braden asked.

"Uh…" Andre stumbled off the edge of the dais, trying to picture his work schedule. He caught himself, but the image escaped him.

"Takes a second, doesn't it?" Braden said. He continued down the aisle. "And if it'd been 13 years, that might be even harder."

"I don't buy that," Andre said. "Like I said, she's hiding something."

Braden shoved the huge wooden door open and held it for Andre. The sky over the forest was the unnatural blue of a computer screen on a dead input. Already, the sun was baking off the morning dew. In the center of the clearing, a dozen or so Digimon with pointy metal hats — all Caprimon — hopped into a line. They had no legs, and their tails were ringed blue and white, like raccoons. The queue led to a cauldron over a fire, tended by two squat knight Digimon, one black and one white, presumably the PawnChessmon.

"You should get on guard duty with Gaomon. You might be able to... start a productive conversation," Braden euphemized. "He likes you more than me. You up for it?"

 _And I know how to flatter him,_  Andre thought, recalling the night before.

"Shouldn't be too hard," he said, joining the food line.

"Cool," Braden said. "Actually, I gotta have Cobol test something. He may…" Braden chose his words carefully. "He may have some useful Input in starting a conversation like that."

Andre stiffened.

"I don't think that would be taken well," Andre said.

"Like I said, I gotta test something first," Braden said. "Don't wanna be bad guests, huh?" They arrived at the front of the line. The black knight Digimon offered them each a bowl of plain oat porridge, spoons held erect in the middle of each.

"Two more, please," Braden said. "There's two Hagurumon still sleeping."

The black one nodded at them, then at the white one, who slopped up two more bowls of food. The boys took the porridge, said thanks and made their way across the courtyard.

"Don't be too, y'know, obvious with anything," Andre said.

"For sure," Braden said. "I'm not dumb."

"Didn't say that," Andre said. "I just don't want you picking a fight like yesterday."

"Different situation," Braden said, shrugging. Andre met eyes with a Kokuwamon, who held the church door open for them. He nodded his thanks as he and Braden passed through. "I didn't know what we were up against. Besides, we should have plenty of fights with trespassers to make Cobol and Hagurumon stronger," Braden continued, strolling up the aisle.

"I guess," Andre said. He sat on the edge of his partner's bed and rested the bowls beside him. Hagurumon stirred, then woke, before Andre could tap them.

"Good morning, Andre," Hagurumon said, eyes flickering for a moment.

"Morning, Hagurumon," he said. "I brought breakfast. Do you, uh, need help eating it? Since you don't have hands?" With a glop, the spoon flew free of the porridge and stuck to one of Hagurumon's gears, trailing of oats in its wake.

"I will manage," they said.

Andre chuckled as he began to eat.

"You are full of surprises."

"Digimon often are," Gaomon said, rounding the bunk. He carried a small pack, clearly military surplus, over his shoulder. "But so are Hue-mons. Did all of you sleep well?" The question was clearly not directed at all of them.

"We did, thanks," Andre replied. "And thanks for talking to Carmen, too. She's going to be a big help."

"That's good to hear," Gaomon replied.

"What's the backpack…" Andre began.

"So Gaomon," Braden interjected, "Looks like we're going to be sticking around and helping out with guard duty."

"That's exciting," Gaomon said. "You and your Digimon are strong. It's good to know the Village will have plenty of protectors while I'm away."

"Yeah, so I was wondering if you…" Braden cut his sentence short. "Away? Where are you going?"

"Carmen's sending me out on a scouting mission. Deltamon doesn't live in the forest. We need to know where he came from and what he was doing here."

"But Carmen said you were going to teach us to guard the village," Braden protested.

"Oh, you'll be training with two of the Kokuwamon," he said. "They know what they're doing."

"How long are you going to be gone?" Andre asked.

"A week," Gaomon said. "If there's trouble, I'll be back sooner. I'm just a scout, after all."

"That's not too bad," Andre said. An idea clicked in his head "It makes sense she picked you for this. She really trusts you with a lot. I mean, she wouldn't have allowed us into the village if it wasn't for you."

Gaomon tried to keep his composure, but he couldn't hide a bashful smile.

"Well, I'm just happy to do my part," he said. "Anyway, I'd better get going. See you in a week!" He started out the door at speed, but Andre caught a flash of the giddy grin Gaomon thought he'd hid. Once he was through the door, Braden leaned over the edge of the bunk.

"You really know how to press his buttons," Braden said.

"Be nice," Andre replied, wry smile across his face.

"Are you just going to get him talking about how cool Carmen is and see if anything sticks out?"

"Pretty much. Maybe I'll just ask what Carmen's up to down there."

"Do you think he's capable of lying with a straight face?"

"I think he isn't going to try and fool us." He took another bite of the thick porridge. "Worst case, he just doesn't know."

"You're the people person," Braden said, pulling himself back up onto his bunk. "You know what to do."

 _That's right. You know what to do, Andre,_ he thought as he chewed.  _Just keep your head down and keep working. You have a plan. Just do your job, and you'll be home in no time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to beta-reader DigiJosify and plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Thanks also to ThereBeWhalesHere. Review, message, or find me on Tumblr if you dug this — happy to hear from you. See you in about two weeks. Happy holidays!


	8. Chapter 8

Andre lay face-down in a bed of fallen pine needles atop a small ridge, some two miles south of the Caprimon Village. It overlooked a great rend in the forest, part of the path Deltamon had torn. They’d crossed the sparser part of the forest on the way there, and across the way were shorter, denser trees. The dark of the thick forest made Andre shiver, just a little, even as his green canvas pullover made him sweat in the afternoon heat.

“So the entire plot of this musical play is driven by the parental figures’ difficulty in relaying basic facts about how humans reproduce?” Guardromon said. They stood a few feet back, under a sheet of camo-print canvas.

“Kinda?” Andre said. “I mean, for Melchior and Wendla, yeah. Especially Wendla.”

“So you have described,” Guardromon said. “Why did the parental figures had such difficulty in communicating basic, necessary information?”

“There’s a lot of, uh... ” Andre started, still scanning the path. “I guess baggage? Like, not everybody agrees on what’s important. Wendla’s mom, she only talked about like the moral, society’s-gonna-judge-you stuff, you know? That’s what she thought was the most important part. But you can’t make the right choice if you don’t know what’s going on, so obviously that didn’t work out.”

“Why did she prioritize social consequences over basic factual information?”

“Because, uh…” A rustling came from the woods, somewhere in the deep dark of the trees. Both scanned the dim undergrowth for any sign of movement. Another noise came, crunching pine needles. Andre snapped his attention to its source and pointed. 

“There,” he whispered. The crunching grew louder, regular footsteps. Soon, Gaomon emerged from the forest, bag over his shoulder, head on a swivel. Andre sighed relief. He stood, pulling down the hood of his pullover and waving. Gaomon waved back and clambered across the fallen trees. Andre ran down the face of the ridge to meet him, stumbling once but regaining his footing. Guardromon took a single great leap and landed at the bottom of the ridge with a thud.

 _Still amused by your own size, huh?_ Andre thought, smiling at his partner. 

“Welcome back, Gaomon,” he said, stepping into a stiff salute. “Status report?”

“One of the PawnChessmon trained you, didn’t they.” Gaomon said. “They do love reading those manuals under the church.”

“No, sir, just doing my duty for the village, sir,” Andre said, trying and failing to stifle a smile. 

“Alright, then,” Gaomon said. “I found where Deltamon came from. There’s a village full of Pagumon and Gazimon in the desert southeast of here. A Gazimon walked into the desert, digivolved into Deltamon, and ran off, no explanation. That was maybe two or three days before the fight.”

“That is extremely unusual,” Guardromon said.

“That’s what I thought. They asked me to stay for a mourning feast, so I asked around. Nobody had any clue why she ran off like that. I asked about any poisonous plants or mushrooms in the area, too, just in case she ate something funny. No luck that way, either.”

“That sucks,” Andre said. “They can’t have been happy to hear that she died the way she did.”

“Well they were sad,” Gaomon said, “but the whole village was worried someone was going get hurt or come looking for revenge. I think they were pretty relieved, too.”

Andre frowned. ‘Could be worse’ tasted bitter; he swallowed his words and said nothing.

“And that’s my status report,” Gaomon concluded. “Everything in order here?”

“Local activity is within normal margins of error,” Guardromon said. “We had three KoDokugumon sightings in the deep forest earlier this morning, all of a single Digimon unaccompanied. We were unable to verify whether we observed one or multiple KoDokugumon.”

“Any sign of a parent Dokugumon?”

“Nope,” Andre said. “No webs and, uh, no giant spider Digimon either.”

“Anything else to report?”

“No, that’s it.”

“Good job, rookie,” Gaomon said, saluting. “Report complete. At ease.” Both he and Andre relaxed, and he grinned.

“Good to see you back safe,” Andre said.

“Indeed,” Guardromon concurred.

“Good to be back,” Gaomon replied. “I assume all is well at the village?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Andre said. “Guard duty’s been pretty quiet. Carmen’s still helping us out with stuff. Oh, and we took down those big red curtains in the chapel to make new blankets for the village.”

“That sounds really useful.”

“Andre discovered a working sewing machine,” Guardromon said. “He has been very busy with it.”

“I like making clothes,” Andre said, bashful. “It’s, uh, a theater kid thing.”

“Did you make that jacket-thing?” Gaomon asked, pointing.

“Yeah,” Andre said, sliding his hands into its single front pocket. Gaomon cocked his head.

“Did you use one of those old tents from the basement?”

“Carmen’s idea. It’s pretty comfortable for what it is.”

“I figured that was it,” Gaomon said, smiling. “It looks like it fits pretty well, too.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“You should make Carmen something like that. She’s, uh…” Gaomon paused to pick his words. “She said a lot of things she asked me not to repeat when she was making her cloak.”

Andre snorted. Guardromon put a hand on his shoulder.

“We are being watched,” they said. Andre went stiff and scanned the woods.

“Smells like Gazimon,” Gaomon said, with a little growl. “They said we wouldn’t have any trouble… There, in the deep forest.” He pointed to a spot in the thick trees.

“Andre, Gaomon, please retreat to the top of the ridge,” Guardromon said. “I may create shrapnel.” Andre nodded, and he and Gaomon scrambled over a log and up the hill. Once the two were at a safe distance, Guardromon lowered their arms and said, “Attention Gazimon: please step out of the forest and declare your intentions. We know you are there.”

In response, three bursts of electricity flew from between the trees. One missed, blackening the bark of a fallen tree. Two hit Guardromon square on. Their eyes flickered as electricity arced across their metal body. All was still for a moment.

_Destruction Grenade!_

The blast lit the undergrowth, illuminating three lapine silhouettes. All three Gazimon dove or scampered out of the woods, all with varying numbers and sizes of wooden splinters sticking out of them. Andre couldn’t discern details; all he knew was that the first Gazimon to stand took a single unsteady step before collapsing and blowing away on the wind. 

The other two Gazimon slowly rose to their feet, staring daggers at Guardromon.

“Please declare your intentions,” Guardromon said. “I have no desire…”

“On the hill!” one of the Gazimon shouted.

_Paralyze Breath!_

Guardromon shot through, catching both blasts. As the electricity arced, they crashed to the ground, systems shorted. The Gazimon dropped to all fours and bounded across the logs.

“Andre, get back!” Gaomon shouted, fists out. The Gazimon scrambled up the hillside with ease. Guardromon, eyes still flickering, raised one arm, aimed carefully and…

_Destruction Grenade!_

All was searing bright and loud ringing. Andre’s back smacked against the ground. His legs cushioned Gaomon’s fall. He blinked as he regained his vision.

“Gaomon?” The ringing muted his voice. Gaomon shook his head. 

“Are you okay?” His voice sounded normal. Gaomon nodded.

_Pico Dart!_

A massive hypodermic needle grazed Andre’s right shoulder and buried its tip in the dirt. Andre clasped the wound on instinct. He followed the needle’s trajectory. A bat-like silhouette fluttered in the trees.

_Pico Dart!_

“No!” Gaomon shouted, leaping onto Andre’s chest. A needle pierced deep into his back. He screamed. 

_Pico Dart!_

Guardromon blew through the trees, colliding with the attacker with a meaty thud.

“Guardromon!” Andre shouted.

“Andre,” Gaomon said, voice wavering. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. He drew his hand from his shoulder and saw blood. “I should be fine. I don’t know how to… I don’t know what… We need to get you back to the village.”

Gaomon nodded. He rolled off of Andre and onto the forest floor.

“Guardromon, where are you!” Andre shouted as he stood.

“I am coming,” Guardromon said, clomping through the forest. In their hands, they held a winged blue Digimon about the size and shape of a basketball. “Did PicoDevimon hit you with a dart?”

“That thing attacked Gaomon!” Andre shouted. “I think he’s poisoned or something!”

“He will survive. Were you hit?”

“It only grazed me,” Andre said. “Am I gonna be okay?”

“I hope so,” Guardromon said.

“Lemme go!” PicoDevimon shouted. Guardromon clamped a hand over his face.

“This was an ambush,” Guardromon said. “We need more information from this Digimon. Give me my camouflage.”

Andre nodded, gathering the cloth. Guardromon punched PicoDevimon as hard as they could, knocking him unconscious. They and Andre wrapped the Digimon tightly in the cloth.

“We need to get Gaomon back to the village,” Andre said. “He got hit right in the back. How bad is that?”

“It is not good. Climb onto my back and hold on tightly,” Guardromon said. Andre complied. Guardromon lifted off, bound PicoDevimon in one hand, and swept up Gaomon’s prone form with the other. He rocketed through the forest, back toward the village.  

* * *

Guardromon landed hard in the middle of the chapel square. Andre dropped from his back. He stumbled over a divot in the ground, heart racing as he pulled the big wooden door open. His shoulder burned. Already, his hoodie was red to the elbow. Across the room, Braden sat up from his cot.

“Get Carmen! Gaomon’s been hurt!” he shouted. Braden nodded and vanished behind the golden sculptures.

Guardromon clomped as fast as they could up the aisle. Braden and Carmen emerged from the bunker.

“What happened?” she said, taking Gaomon from Guardromon.

“Ambush,” Guardromon said. “We have a prisoner, a PicoDevimon. Gaomon was hit directly. Andre was grazed, and the toxin may or may not be in his system.”

“Shit. What’s in the bag?”

“Our assailant. We should interrogate him for information — this was a premeditated attack.”

“Second floor of the tower,” Carmen said, pointing Guardromon toward a door.

“Cobol and I will help,” Braden said, already halfway there.

Andre leaned on one of the pews, slick with sweat.

“Gaomon, are you okay?” Carmen asked. Eyes heavy, Gaomon shook his head.

“I’m really sick, ma’am,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Carmen said, hugging him close to her. Her tone was soft. “You’re just gonna be sick for a few days. We have plenty of medicine, okay? Let’s get you to a sick bed.” Gaomon nodded.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he managed.

“Andre, are you okay?” Carmen asked, voice direct again.

“I’m bleeding pretty badly,” he said. “And I’m kinda lightheaded.”

“Can you walk?”

Andre nodded. Breathing heavily, he took a step toward the altar. His legs felt weak, unsteady.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Carmen said. She whistled for a Kokuwamon, who wedged herself under Andre’s arm and helped him walk. They passed through a heavy wooden door near the back of the chapel and into a small, warm-lit room with two beds and a small table in between. It was lined with wooden shelves, half-filled with olive-green boxes — military-looking medical kits, all — plus a few bundles of dried herbs. Carmen lay Gaomon in one of the beds.

“Just wrap my arm up,” Andre said, as the Kokuwamon eased him into a dark wooden chair. “I should find out what’s going on. Gaomon’s hurt worse than me.”

“Do it,” Carmen barked. The Kokuwamon pulled a box from the shelf.

“Please take your shirt and jacket off,” she said to Andre. The burning sensation in Andre’s arm flared up, and he gritted his teeth as removed his clothing.

“How long ago were you injured?” the Kokuwamon asked, unpackaging a length of muslin.

“M-maybe ten minutes?” Andre stuttered between heavy breaths.

“This should not be bleeding nearly this much,” Kokuwamon said, winding the bandage around his upper arm and torso. She tied the bandage off. Immediately, Andre stood, leaning against the wall for support.

“You should not be going anywhere,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re…”

“I need to help,” he interrupted.

“Let him go,” Carmen said. “Help me mix the antitoxin for Gaomon.”

Andre staggered into the cathedral, knees weak.

 _Come on, Andre, you have work to do,_ he thought. _You lost some blood, but you’re all bandaged up now. You’re going to be fine._ He tried not to notice the bandage turning red. He ignored how his shoulder pulsed with heat as much as with shooting pain. Every step was the whole of the world.

Andre pushed past the wooden door; voices echoed down the tower stairs.

“He appears to be secure,” came Guardromon’s voice, gradually increasing in pitch. “I will require some rest.”

“You did great, Hagurumon,” Braden replied. “Cobol and I have it from here.”

“Are you sure this will work, Braden?” Hagurumon asked.

“Yeah! Cobol and I tried it out on a Mushmon that attacked us the other day.”

_Command Input!_

“It’s just a shame we can’t make ‘em forget it happened,” Braden concluded. “How many questions do we have, Cobol?”

“Five,” he answered.

“Alright, let’s get under way.”

“We should wait for Andre and Carmen before we proceed,” Hagurumon suggested. “They may have useful input.”

“Carmen’s taking care of Gaomon,” Andre said, reaching the top of the stairs. Hagurumon regarded Andre with concern in their eyes. Braden went pale. “Let’s get this done.”

PicoDevimon was bound to a chair in the center of the room, eyes flat blue, expression vacant. 

“You should be receiving medical attention,” Hagurumon insisted. “We do not know how PicoDevimon’s toxin might affect you.”

“He didn’t get me,” Andre insisted. He turned to Cobol. “Ask why he attacked us.”

“Braden?” Cobol asked. Braden continued to stare at Andre and his increasingly crimson bandage.

“Braden,” Andre said between heavy breaths. Braden shook himself out of his daze, then turned to Cobol and nodded. The beam of yellow light connecting him to PicoDevimon pulsed.

“Plan A failed,” he said, droning. “Plan D looked possible. That’s the one where the Gazimon are noticed, the village’s guard has reinforcements, they can’t kill ‘em, but someone weak gets separated from the group. I kill someone weak and hide in the woods. So I attacked Gaomon and that green thing.”

“Four left,” Cobol said. “PicoDevimon is referring to Andre when he says ‘the green thing.’”

“What were you trying to accomplish with these plans?” Hagurumon asked. Braden nodded to Cobol. The light beam pulsed.

“I needed to get into the village. Rumor says that the Caprimon have big computer parts hidden somewhere.” PicoDevimon droned. “If I steal those, we’ll finish the altar and begin the ritual. We’ll reach out to the Dark Area and ask the forces who dwell therein to make us strong. After that, we’ll conquer the Digital World and make it ready for their arrival. They’re gonna make me a king.”

“Three left,” Cobol said.

Nobody spoke.

“Hagurumon, have you ever heard anything about any of this?” Braden asked.

“Cobol, please clarify what PicoDevimon means by ‘altar,’” Hagurumon said.

“He is referring to a powerful computer setup,” Cobol answered. “One with the ability to connect to a network it is not wired into, either through cellular or WiFi protocols.”

“Please clarify what he means by ‘ritual.’”

“The ritual is a program that will establish a communication channel with the Dark Area.”

“So what does he mean by ‘Dark Area?’” Braden asked.

“Details on the Dark Area are scant,” Hagurumon said, “but in the readme file we were given, Holliday referred to ‘Oceans’ outside of this iteration of the Digital World. The Dark Area is one example of what he was talking about.”

“Who’s ‘we?’” Andre interjected. Braden blanched, then nodded to Cobol. Again, the light beam pulsed.

“Myself and my flock,” PicoDevimon droned. “We are the Cult of Devimon. I am the High Priest, destined to bear the Mark of Evil. My followers will guide me up a rope of darkness, and I will become the harbinger of the Dark Area.”

“Two left,” Cobol said.

“Well, we should wipe out this cult, right?” Braden asked. “Let’s ask where his followers are.”

Cobol nodded, and the light beam pulsed.

“My followers are gone to their reward,” PicoDevimon said. “The work that remains is mine and mine alone.”

“One left,” Cobol said.

“Well that’s convenient,” Braden said, laughing with relief. “One loony and a couple of losers he’s suckered in — not much of a cult, huh?”

“We are missing critical information,” Hagurumon said. “Who else knows about this ritual to contact the Dark Area?”

“What do you mean?” Braden asked. “The Cult of Devil-mon is just him, right?”

“Devimon is a powerful Adult-level Digimon that any PicoDevimon could, potentially, digivolve into, though they are rare and, in rumor and legend, associated with dark powers,” Hagurumon explained. “More typically, PicoDevimon digivolve into Bakemon, a much more common ghost Digimon that lacks any such mythology. He is crafty, but he simply seeks validation and a sense that he is special.”

“But if anyone with any real brains is trying to reach out to the Dark Area…” Braden stared at the floor. “Cobol, go ahead and ask.”

The light beam flickered, then pulsed.

“All sorts of Digimon know parts of the ritual,” PicoDevimon droned. “Putting the whole thing together just takes travel and a few connections. I can’t be the only one who figured it out. The Transmission came 13 years ago.”

“Wait, transmission? What is he talking about!” Braden shouted. Cobol collapsed to the ground, unconscious. PicoDevimon, too, went slack in his restraints. Braden grabbed the Digimon’s bound wings. “No, you don’t get off that easy. Hagurumon, hack him. We need to find out more.”

“Andre, may I…”

Andre promptly collapsed on the wooden floor. His vision blurred. All was fire and stabbing needles. 

“Andre!” Hagurumon shouted.

 _He’s never raised his voice before,_ Andre thought. And then, there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Thanks also to ThereBeWhalesHere. Review, message, or find me on Tumblr if you enjoyed this — happy to hear from you. See you in about two weeks.


	9. Chapter 9

It started at the end, with a conquest of bone by metal and plastic, a violent thud, the shattering of glass. And then Andre was in the backseat of a Subaru, speeding through a peach- and golden-hued nightscape. A voice came from the front seat.

"Ruby Cambridge, can I help you?"

"Ma?!" Andre shouted. Ruby didn't respond.

"Nora, what's wrong?"

Andre recognized the area: sixth street, headed east, homebound.

"Oh, shit," Ruby said. "How bad are they taking it?"

"What's happening, Ma?" Andre asked. "What's wrong?"

"They're kicking him out now?" she shouted. "It's the wrap party! Ain't they got a sense of decorum?"

Andre couldn't ignore the bayou twang. Ruby took pains to bury all traces of her redneck heritage; her accent only came through in a crisis. She dropped the phone onto the passenger's seat and pushed the car past 70.

When the on-ramp came, she took it at speed. The back tire caught a lingering patch of winter ice. It swung wide. Andre grabbed the back of the seat. Ruby was silent, jaw locked, eyes wide, compensating. They skidded through the intersection, swerving under the overpass. Again, the tires left asphalt. And there was a conquest of bone by metal and plastic, a violent thud, the shattering of glass.

And then Andre was in the backseat of an intact Subaru, speeding through a peach- and golden-hued nightscape once more.

"Ruby Cambridge, can I help you?"

"Ma!" Andre shouted. "Slow down! Ma! Ma!"

* * *

Andre's eyes shot open as a fire took hold of the right side of his body. He grasped his arm as tears welled in his eyes, raw throat choking back a scream. The limb was massive, anchor-like. Bright red flames poured out of the wound in his shoulder, swallowing his arm and creeping across his torso, climbing his neck. He took huge panic breaths, teeth clenched through the pain, eyes shut tight.

"Andre?" came a weak, distant voice. Andre whimpered in response. His heartbeat was deafening in his ears. Something cool and soft gripped his other shoulder. Andre bit back tears and, slowly, the pain abated.

"You're alive," the voice managed, closer now. Andre opened his eyes. He didn't recognize the figure at his bedside, the one he now realized was attempting to comfort him.

"Where am I?" he asked, rolling onto his back. Andre could tell he was on a scratchy bed, covered by a heavy blanket, but all else was mystery. It looked like the inside of a cloud at sunset, all pink and gold.

"You're safe, Andre," the figure answered. "We were worried you weren't going to make it."

Andre nodded. The details didn't matter in this soft, warm-lit world. The figure at his bedside helped him sit up against the head of the bed, piling pillows behind him. Its vague edges sharpened, and its features became clearer. It was Andre, but younger. It even had the tight braids Andre had cut off two years ago.

"Are you me?" Andre asked. The doppelganger's expression turned to worry, and it put a hand to Andre's forehead.

"You're burning up," it said. Andre's arm was still engulfed in red flames.

"Yeah, I am," he said. "The fire isn't spreading, I don't think."

The doppelganger reached up and out of the cloud, plucking four glowing stars from the unseen firmament and offering them to Andre.

"You're supposed to take these when you wake up," it said. The stars didn't burn Andre's fingers when he plucked them from the Doppelganger's outstretched hand. He put them in his mouth, but his throat was too dry to swallow. The doppelganger offered him a canteen full of something cold, which washed down the stars.

"Am I dreaming?" Andre asked. The doppelganger said nothing, instead holding out a stone bowl full of something green. It reeked of wet Band-Aids.

"Drink this," it said. "They need you more than they need me right now."

"Why's that?" Andre asked.

"You're strong," it said. "And you need to get better to go home."

"What about you?"

"You're doing more good than I could, and you're more at risk anyway," it said.

Andre nodded and took the bowl. It tasted worse than it smelled, and worse yet, it was chunky, full of bits of plant matter. He forced the concoction down and croaked a plea for more of whatever was in that canteen. The doppelganger obliged.

"You should get some sleep," it said. Andre began to thank it, but his words were muffled by a slow drip of black spittle from the corner of his mouth. He was not alarmed by this. Rather, he found it peaceful. It spread across his skin, quenching the fires. He could see his skin underneath, pulsing with glowing orange veins. Soon, he was entirely enveloped, staring at the world as if through smoky glass. All grew distant and dark, and then there was nothing.

* * *

Andre slept deeply and without dreams, and when he returned to the waking world, it was all at once. He found himself atop scratchy sheets, under a heavy red blanket. There was no fire, no cloud, no strange black liquid. Andre delicately put a finger to his shoulder. Even under the bandage, it was warm and tender, but that was the worst of it. He sat up, scanning the room. It was the sick room from before the interrogation — Gaomon lay on the bed against the far wall, apparently asleep.

The door edged open, and Carmen entered with slow, quiet steps. Gingerly closing the door behind her, she crossed to Gaomon and sighed.

"Sleep well," she whispered. Then, she turned to Andre and gave a tired smile of relief.

"Good to see you awake," she said. The dark circles under her eyes almost distracted from their redness. "How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad," he said. "How long have I been out?"

"It's two in the morning, so about a day and half," she said. She put a hand to his forehead.

"What happened with PicoDevimon?"

"Dead," Carmen said. "Apparently Braden and Cobol caught him trying to escape. Your fever is down."

"Did they get to ask him anything else?"

"No. Apparently Hagurumon didn't want to help without your approval. Braden was pretty angry about it," she said. She lifted Andre's right arm and moved it around at the elbow and shoulder. "How well do you know him?"

"Not well. We met in the Digital World," he said.

"Hm. Well, you're getting your range of motion back. I need to check under the bandage." She unwrapped the muslin slowly. Everything stung.

"That's a lot bigger than I remember," Andre said. The cut itself was dark, but the rest of his shoulder was bruised and covered with the ghosts of a thousand blisters. "Wasn't it just a little scratch?"

"PicoDevimon toxin is nasty," Carmen said. "You're lucky you didn't lose the arm."

"You're kidding me," Andre said, blanching.

"Nope," Carmen replied. "Digital World toxins are way more powerful on humans than on Digimon. I almost lost my leg to Dokugumon venom when I first came here."

Andre shuddered.

"But the medicinal herbs are really effective too," she said. "Your arm's healing really fast."

"Is that how you saved your leg?" Andre asked.

"Hm? Oh, no," Carmen said, rewrapping Andre's shoulder. "Some Digimon found me and took care of me. A Leomon and a Cutemon. Cutemon had healing powers."

"Sounds lucky."

"Very," Carmen said. She sighed, eyes shut. "Look, Andre…"

Andre said nothing.

"I shouldn't have let you help with the interrogation," she said. "Should've made sure you weren't poisoned. I was worried about Gaomon."

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"PicoDevimon toxin isn't usually fatal to Digimon. He'd be fine in maybe a week even without medicine."

"So why'd you let me leave when I could've been dying?" Andre said.

"Gaomon's family," she said. "Or as close as I have anymore. I needed to make sure he was okay first."

All instinct told him to spit venom, to lash out, to hurt. But he was still weak, enough to hesitate. And in that moment, his conscience made its presence felt.  _What if it were Celine or Ruby? What would you do if they were hurt?_ And then,  _what have you been doing for Celine for the last year and a half?_

"Yeah," he allowed. "I, uh, I know that feeling. About family."

Carmen walked over and rested a hand on Gaomon's forehead.

"He's getting better, but not fast," she said. "I can't help but worry."

"So you stay busy?" Andre asked.

"Exactly," she said. "It helps."

"Yeah, it does," Andre said. He sighed.  _Gotta give a little to get a little,_  he thought.  _Maybe she'll open up if I give her something to go on._  "I do the same for my mom. She's been pretty messed up lately."

"She's sick?" Carmen asked.

"Well, sorta," Andre said. "It's… she just misses my Ma."

"Wait, your mom misses your ma?" Carmen asked.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Andre said. "I have two moms. Celine and Ruby. They're, um, married."

"Oh," Carmen said. Then, she said nothing. "Well that's... cool. Good for them. Are you, like, adopted?"

"No, I'm… I guess Ruby's technically my aunt?" he said. "They got help from her twin brother, Derwood."

"Huh," she said. "Is that… weird? Do you see him a lot, or, like… Sorry, I'm probably being rude."

"You and half the people at school," Andre said. "Nah, I've never met uncle Derwood. Ruby says he moved to Cozumel after signing over guardianship."

"So what happened to her?"

"Ruby's, uh…" Andre gripped the edge of his blanket. "Car crash."

"God, I'm sorry," Carmen said. "How long has she been gone?"

"Oh she's alive," Andre said. He stared at his hands, still a little ashamed. "But she, uh, she hit a guy with her car. He was sleeping under an overpass, I guess."

Carmen said nothing.

"But she wasn't, like, drunk or anything," he said. "There was an icy patch, you know? It was an accident. She lost control of the car."

"You explain that a lot too, don't you," Carmen said.

"I'm a black kid with a parent in jail," he said, temper rising, words coming fast. "What does that tell a bunch of white teenagers from suburban Denver? Can you imagine how I'm gonna get treated if that gets out?"

Andre's head swam; he took a breath to calm down. For a long moment, neither said anything. Carmen was the first to find words.

"That must be lonely," she said.

"Isn't it worse for you? Being in a computer program and all?"

"Not really," she said. "Digimon are people, even if they aren't human. I mean, I miss my old family, my human family. But I've been gone almost as long as I was there. What year is it, back on Earth?"

"2012."

Carmen whistled her surprise.

"I've been living here for 13 years," she said. "Damn."

"Damn," Andre agreed.  _Around the time Holliday found the anomaly. And that Transmission PicoDevimon was talking about._ "What were you doing before you found this village?"

"Wandering, mostly," she said. "Looking for, uh, a way home. Took me eight years to give up, and then a week after I do, I find this place."

"The Cathedral from Badajoz."

"First thing from Earth I recognized," she said. "And they needed help. The Dokugumon in the forest had attacked the night before and killed the Guardromon who used to keep 'em safe. It was like fate. Like maybe this is the role I was brought here to play, divine intervention-style."

"What was your family like?"

"Back in Utah? Well my dad, Arthur, owned a camping supply store, and my mom, Macarena, she was a network administrator for the cops. And my…" She paused, jaw tightening. "Anyway, mom taught me most of what I know about computers, besides what I read in those manuals downstairs, and dad taught me how to survive outdoors. They set me up pretty good for what I wound up doing."

"Did they teach you how to fight, too?" Andre asked, eyeing the blade ever-present on her hip.

"No, that was Leomon," she said. "The one who found me. He taught me a lot about the Digital World." She unsheathed the foot-long knife and held it across her hands. "This knife? It was a present from him. Pure chrome digizoid, he said. It's pretty strong, and it stays sharp." Its surface was matte gray, but the edge had a keenness that gleamed in the light. The handle was simple, wrapped in brown leather and unadorned. It was a tool, not an ornament.

"What happened to him?"

"He died," she said. "He always talked about this fated rival, Ogremon, who he was eventually going to have to fight. So one night, middle of the night, Ogremon shows up, and they fight. Leomon's winning, so Ogremon runs, but he's set up this pitfall full of spikes. Leomon doesn't see it in time, and just like that, he's gone."

"That's rough."

"Yeah. Took me a week to hunt Ogremon down, but I got my revenge," she said. She paused to sigh. "It didn't really help."

"Did he try to find you?" Andre asked. "Once he was reborn?"

She shook her head. The room was quiet.

"You should sleep," Carmen said. "It's late."

"You should too," Andre replied.

"I'll tell you how the program's going in the morning," she said. And with that, she left.

Andre lay down and stared at the dark beams that crossed the stucco ceiling above him. Thoughts and emotions buzzed through his mind. But in his weakened state, sleep came quickly, and he rested once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Thanks also to ThereBeWhalesHere. Review or message me here, or find me on Tumblr if you enjoyed this — happy to hear from you. See you in about two weeks!


	10. Chapter 10

Andre woke from strange and feverish dreams to find he was not alone in the sick room. Braden sat at his bedside, flipping through an old artillery manual. The green canvas patch on the back of Braden's hoodie was holding, Andre was pleased to note.

."Hey," Andre yawned.

"Oh hey," Braden said, setting the binder on a shelf. His voice lacked its usual energy. "Carmen said you woke up last night. How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said. "Much better." It was true, too — his shoulder was tender, but only superficially. The fever had broken, and though tired, he felt that restlessness that marked the end of an illness.

"Cool, uh, that's cool," Braden said. He wrung his hands together and stared at the corner of the room.

"Is something up?" Andre asked, sitting up in bed.

"Uh, what do you mean?" Braden asked, posture stiffening.

"Like, did you want to talk to me about something? You look like there's something on your mind."

Braden took a deep breath. He stood and turned to face Andre, fists clenched, his own face already turning ruddy.

"Why did you tell Hagurumon he couldn't hack a Digimon without your permission?" Braden spat the words out at speed. "He could have asked PicoDevimon so many more questions, but now we don't know anything about this transmission or anything, and it's your fault!" Braden was practically panting, just on the quiet side of the line between shouting and not. Andre recoiled.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"I am trying to talk to you about what happened the other night," Braden said. "This is a serious conversation we need to have."

"Then why are you doing…" Andre gestured at Braden while searching for a word. "That. Whatever this angry step dad thing you're doing is."

Braden muttered something under his breath and turned for the door.

"Wait, Braden, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

When Braden turned, his eyes were puffy.

"I want to talk to you, but this is very serious," he said, voice cracking. "If you're not ready for that, that's a problem."

"We talk about serious stuff all the time," Andre said. "Like, you know, the mission? Getting home? Carmen? Like, most of what we talk about?"

"But that's, like," Braden began, pausing to sniffle. "We're on the same side with that stuff."

Andre paused to find his words.

"So why can't we talk like usual? Why do you feel like you gotta do this whole righteous anger thing?"

"I just…" The words caught in Braden's mouth.

"You don't look like you're enjoying this, either," Andre said. "Can we just talk?"

Braden nodded.

"Cool," Andre said. He glanced around the room, finding a canteen on his bedside table, which he offered to Braden. "Water?"  
Braden nodded and took the canteen, opening it, but only staring at its open mouth.

"Cooties," Braden said.

"I'm sorry?"

Braden turned and, with as big a grin as he could muster, said "I don't want your cooties."

A pause.

Both boys burst out laughing.

"Seriously? Cooties?" Andre managed, catching his breath. Braden shrugged.

"I dunno, best I could do," he admitted. He took a swig of water and passed the canteen to Andre.

"Broke the tension," Andre agreed before taking a drink.

"Yeah," Braden said. "I don't like getting all serious like that." He pulled an old wooden chair from the corner and sat it by Andre's bedside.

"For sure," Andre said. "You still want to talk?"

"Yeah, please," Braden said, some tension creeping back into his voice.

"It's not really complicated. I think mind control is messed up, so Hagurumon and I talked, and unless it's life or death, they won't use it," Andre said. Braden said nothing. "The idea of someone taking over my mind and making me do whatever is pretty horrifying to me. So I don't feel right doing it to someone else."

"Saved our lives on the beach," Braden noted. Andre grabbed the blanket as the memory of Tortamon dying on the rocks returned to his memory.

"You're not wrong," Andre allowed. He turned the memory over in his mind as he'd done many times before, the ruts he'd worn into it now somewhat familiar. "I'm not gonna tell you what to do. But for me? It isn't right."

"Just don't want to get your hands dirty like that?" Braden asked. Andre turned, confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Braden raised his hands, sitting back into his chair.

"I just… Let me try again, that's not what I meant," Braden said. With a deep breath, he collected himself. "Alright, so you aren't okay with Hagurumon hacking a Digimon, but you're fine with Cobol doing it because he isn't your partner, right?"

"That's fair."

"So it does kind of feel like you want to benefit from Cobol's hacking without actually asking someone to do it," Braden said. "But it feels like there's another part there."

"I'm trying not to tell you how to do what you do," Andre said. "You and Cobol work together well. I'm not gonna get in the middle of that. You two are fine with mind control? Unless you do something really fucked up with it, that's your thing. We're still on the same team."

"Okay," Braden said. "Just different stuff we do for the same goal, right?"

"Yeah, that's it," Andre said.

"Would've been nice to ask more questions."

"Yeah, it would've."

"And it beat torturing him or anything like that, too."

"That's true, too," Andre shrugged. "I might have gone for it if it wasn't for, uh…" He gestured at his arm and the room in general.

"Better have a doctor's note next time," Braden said, grinning. Andre rolled his eyes. "Anyway, speaking of different stuff, did you find out anything about Carmen?"

"Yeah, actually, I…"

The door creaked open, and Andre cut himself off. In walked Carmen, followed by Hagurumon and Cobol. Carmen was red in the face and grinning triumphantly.

"I got it!" she said. "Nine days of work, but I found your damn password!"

"Seriously?!" Braden exclaimed, effervescent.

"Carmen has indeed found the password, yes," Cobol said. "We heard noises coming from the basement and believed her to be injured…"

"I beat the brute force program to the punch! Only had to teach myself a new  _freaking_ programming language." she cheered, pumping her fist.

"So... what's in the file?" Andre asked.

"Oh, uh, I thought the four of you should be there for that," she said.

"You up for it, Andre?" Braden asked.

Andre sat up, checked for pants — present and accounted for — and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His knees were stiff, but they held his weight well enough. He took a step, then another, then another. Everything in order. He nodded.

"Well come on, then!" She scampered out of the room. Braden looked to Andre, half-mouthing a bewildered "what." Andre shrugged, no less confused.

"Let's just take the win," Andre suggested.

"For sure. Talk later?"

Andre nodded. Braden and Cobol made for the door. Hagurumon, hanging back, nuzzled Andre's leg.

"I'm glad you're okay," they said, before following the rest of the group. A warmth bloomed within him, and he smiled. On his way toward the door, he glanced at the other bed. He paused, walked instead to Gaomon's side. The Digimon slept, apparently peacefully. Andre tousled the fur on Gaomon's head.

 _You saved my life_ , he thought.  _Thank you_. Andre sighed, then turned and left the room, careful to close the door behind him quietly.

* * *

The stairs took time, but soon, Andre joined the others in Carmen's bunker. They were crowded around the monitor already.

"Chair's over there if you need it," Carmen said, gesturing. She'd dropped the exuberance from earlier. Andre grabbed the metal folding chair and set it up beside her, and the others re-crowded to account for him.

"Okay, so there's four files, just like your guy Holliday said," she began. "There's a data log — it's a plain text file, but it's huge. And there's these two maps in… I'm not even sure what this format is, so yeah, that's helpful. And last, we have 'Messenger_exe' which should be exactly what it sounds like. Should I boot it up?"

"Let's do our homework and read through that log file first," Braden said.

Carmen nodded, then hovered over the text file. It was indeed huge — several gigabytes.

"How the hell he fit this much data on a floppy disk…" Carmen muttered. She opened the file, and all were greeted with a plain text wall of various alphanumeric characters. She scrolled through the text for a moment, none of it Andre could discern as intelligible. Carmen pulled up a terminal window, typed in a few commands, and suddenly, the log file reopened, this time discernable.

"Alright," she said, "so this is what Holliday would have seen that day."

 

> **02:00 GMT, 01.08.1999**  
>  **Communication Established: 00 Yagami, Taichi**  
>  **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Communication Established: 01 Ishida, Yamato**  
>  **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Communication Established: 02 Takenouchi, Sora**  
>  **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Communication Established: 03 Izumi, Koushiro**  
>  **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Communication Established: 04 Tachikawa, Mimi**  
>  **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Communication Established: 05 Kido, Jo**  
>  **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Communication Established: 06 Takaishi, Takeru**  
>  **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Error 404**  
>  **Communication Failure: 07 Yagami, Hikari**  
>  **Retrying…**  
>  **Error 404**  
>  **Communication Failure: 07 Yagami, Hikari**  
>  **Retrying…**  
>  **Error 404**  
>  **Communication Failure: 07 Yagami, Hikari**  
>  **Loading alts_txt**  
>  **Communication Established: 08 Gray, Mateo**

Carmen froze. Andre turned — she was grinding her teeth.

"What's up?" he asked. Carmen shook her head.

"Nothing," she said, biting more back.

 

> **Beginning Upload…**  
>  **Upload Successful**  
>  **Error**  
>  **Unexpected Data Detected**  
>  **Isolating…**  
>  **Scanning…**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**  
>  **Scanning…**  
>  **Security Token Not Found**  
>  **Loading Contingency_exe**  
>  **Deleting…73%**  
>  **73%**  
>  **37%**  
>  **Terminal Error**  
>  **Resetting Contingency_exe…**  
>  **Unable To Load Contingency_exe**  
>  **Beginning Transmission…**  
>  **Transmission Successful**

Carmen stopped again, taking a deep breath.

"From the logs presented, it appears that we have found the anomaly," Cobol said. "The data presented appears to correlate with Holliday's description of an unauthorized object being denied access to the main Digital World server."

"So what happened?" Braden asked.

"Contingency_exe appears to be a security protocol," Cobol explained. "It failed to delete the unauthorized object — the anomaly — and froze. The device that ran this log was unable to find the security protocol again. It is not clear why the program transmitted the anomaly at all, much less to a secure backup server. It is unclear how this data is useful without data on where the anomaly was sent within the server. Hagurumon, please confirm."

"Cobol's assessment is accurate but incomplete," Hagurumon said. "We may be able to acquire more information with this data. Carmen, who is Mateo Gray?"

She closed her eyes, bit her lip, inhaled, exhaled.

"Carmen?" Andre asked. "Is your last name Gray?"

She nodded.

"Mateo's your brother, isn't he?"

Again, she nodded.

 _So that's who she didn't want to talk about,_ Andre thought.

"So the anomaly… that's you. It's for sure you, Carmen," Braden concluded. "We found the anomaly!" He clapped Andre on the back. But Carmen was tense, not celebratory. She quaked as she drew breath. Braden looked to Andre, confused. Andre gestured for the stairs. Braden nodded, tapping Cobol and making for the stairs.

"We aren't done," Carmen announced, flatly. Braden stopped, turned. "We haven't looked at the maps. And you have to check in with your contact."

"Right," Braden said, as tentative with his words as with his steps down the stairs.

 _That's right, you work through your pain._ Andre bit his lip.  _Is that why you settled down here and protect these Caprimon?_

Carmen double-clicked the map files. Two windows opened, showing globes and corresponding flat projections. They were nearly identical.

"Seems pretty easy to use," Carmen said. She clicked through a few menus, and a blinking red dot appeared on one of the maps, out on a peninsula.

"What's that?" Braden asked.

"Us," she said.

"So that must be the coast we landed on," Braden said, pointing to a rough spot on the coast. "Geez, how big is this server?"

Carmen did a little clicking, and suddenly, the Digital World map was superimposed over another map — a map of Earth.

"It's the same size," she said. She ground her teeth together. "It's Earth-sized."

"Wow," Braden said.

"But why do we even have this? What's the point?" Andre asked.

"I don't know," Carmen said. "Looks like… There it is." She pulled up a help document and scanned through the table of contents.

"Wait, stop," Braden said, pointing at the screen. "Looks like you can import some kind of location data. Will it read that log file?"

"That'd be weird, but so's everything else I've seen this guy do," she said. "Let's try." She zipped through a few menus and, soon enough and sure enough, something changed. On one map, the map of the backup server, a red dot blinked. It was far away from where they were, in the middle of a vast continent, somewhere green. A new window popped up, identifying it as "anomaly."

"That must be where you were dropped," Braden told Carmen. But her attention was on the map of the main server. Another window popped up, listing eight names with corresponding symbols.

"He was on a different server," she murmured. "He was alone." Andre's eyes flicked to the list. Sure enough, there was Mateo Gray. His dot was somewhere on a vast continent — the same place Carmen landed on the backup server. Andre scanned the flat map for the other seven symbols on the main server. They appeared to be in the middle of the ocean, half a world away from Mateo.

"He really was alone," Andre said.

"Did those other people just get dropped into the ocean?" Braden asked.

Carmen, silent, zoomed in on the seven symbols. They were on a tiny island, some thirty or forty miles off the coast, alone. The other map jumped to match. But there was no lonely little island on the backup server. Just an anonymous stretch of ocean.

 _Weird_ , Andre thought.

"Anything else you need to see?" Carmen asked.

"Given that the intent was to guide us to you, I believe there is little else we can get out of those maps," Hagurumon said.

"Ready to risk the messenger program?" she asked.

"Nothing else for us to do," Braden said. "Let's go for it."

Carmen closed the maps and double-clicked the program. A terminal window popped up, detailing the address the computer was attempting to reach. Andre couldn't follow the flow of text that appeared.

"What's happening?" Andre asked.

"It's talking to the… I guess the firewall program," Carmen said. "There's the progress bar." She pointed at the screen to a number that was slowly counting up. Below, the text read "Estimated time remaining: 15:45:32."

"That's not…" Andre started.

"Sixteen hours?!" Braden interjected. "That doesn't say it's gonna take sixteen hours to upload, does it?"

"Yup," Carmen said. Braden looked fit to bust a vein.

"Screw this, I'm getting breakfast," he said, stomping up the stairs. Cobol followed close behind. Andre stared after him.

"You should go too," Carmen said. "I'll… see if I can do anything." She ground her teeth together, tamping down the waver in her voice, pushing against a glacier.

"We shall ask PawnChessmon to bring your breakfast," Hagurumon said before turning toward the stairs.

Andre reached his hand out as if to comfort her. But he knew that posture she'd adopted, the grasping acts of control, resilient as paper in a hurricane. The desperate stumbles that won't stop the fall. The desperate stumbles that won't stop the fall. The bend before the break.

He said nothing, and he turned, and he left.

The log told all that needed telling. Holliday's boss brought eight people into the Digital World. One was Mateo. Maybe Carmen tried to intervene, grabbed Mateo by the leg as he was taken away. Maybe not. But he was taken nonetheless, sent to the main server. And she, rejected, nearly deleted, then dropped here, an accident.

 _How long did she look for him?_  Andre wondered as he walked up the stairs.

Andre's stomach churned. He didn't want this image of Carmen in his head, the one of her left wanting after finding revenge for Leomon, looking for some new meaning, stumbling upon the cathedral, staring at a monument to all she'd lost — falling to her knees and knowing, deep as marrow, that her old life was gone, and she would never find her brother. And in a place that was tied to her childhood, to her family, there were strangers in desperate need.

_It must have felt like destiny or something. And now here we are, and all we have is bad news. No, Carmen, God didn't bring you here, it was a freak accident. Your brother's in another dimension, so you were never going to find him, either. You were fucked from the start and you had no idea, and whatever you built here over the last five years, well, I guess we're here to tear that down, too._

He reached the top of the stairs and turned. It was quiet, still.

_I wish we'd never come here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice. Thanks also to ThereBeWhalesHere. And thank you for reading Digimon fanfiction in 2018 and beyond! Hit me up or find me on Tumblr if you have any questions or comments.


	11. Chapter 11

Andre sat against the outer wall of the cathedral, his socks hanging out of his army surplus boots alongside him. The grass cooled his bare feet, a contrast to the rough, sun-warmed brick behind him. Yet nice was all the sunny morning could offer. In his canvas hoodie, still torn from PicoDevimon's attack, he looked as lost as he felt. Drawn into his hood, he pushed his porridge around his bowl, searching through it for something that wasn't there.

"I cannot force you to talk about what is on your mind," Hagurumon said, "but if you do not eat, you will find guard duty all the more difficult."

"What's there to say?" Andre said. "We have to finish Holliday's mission. We found the anomaly, so we should just... figure out what he wants us to do and get it over with. I need to go home."

"You would not be as upset as you are if that were all you wanted to say."

"You already know how I feel," Andre grumbled. "Why don't you just say what you're gonna say?"

"I do not know how you feel if you do not tell me," they began. "But since you do not appear to want to talk, I will make an inference. Carmen's situation is tragic, and you feel guilty that we had a role in revealing it to her. You also worry that Holliday will require us to remove her from this life she has built. While you know you are not to blame for Carmen's situation, you are not comfortable blaming Holliday entirely, nor are you willing to distance yourself emotionally in order to minimize your role in what has transpired."

Andre sighed.

"See? I don't even need to talk. You just… know."

"And your turmoil over the situation is admirable," they said.

Andre cocked his head.

"Admirable?"

"Though I have only known you for a little while, I am confident it would be out of character for you not to share in Carmen's suffering," said Hagurumon, now floating alongside him. "I admire your empathy, Andre."

Andre's lip quivered, flickering a smile before sinking into a frown.

"It's like Holliday is holding my conscience hostage," he said. "It's this whole village on the line. Without Carmen, they're gonna get rolled. Am I supposed to tell 'em 'good luck' and go home? But if I don't, then mom…"

His voice began to raise, and nearly on reflex, he screwed up his eyes. One, then two deep breaths brought him back down.

"I don't have a choice right now, not really," he said, calmer. "I need to keep working, and I'll do what I can when the time comes."

"Sounds like a plan."

Andre flinched as Braden came around the corner of the building, Cobol close behind. Braden raised his hands, apologetic.

"Don't eavesdrop," Andre said flatly, digging into his porridge.

"I wasn't. Just caught the end of what you were saying," Braden said. "You're talking about the Carmen situation though, right?"

Andre nodded.

"Yeah, it's pretty crazy, right? But it makes sense — only other human in the Digital World is the anomaly."

"You don't feel bad for her?" Andre asked.

"Oh yeah, 'course I do," Braden said. "But hey, we don't know what happens next. No reason worrying about it, right? We'll figure something out. Like you said — keep working and do what we can when the time comes."

Andre sighed.

"Still bothers me," he said.

"Then let's keep you busy," Braden replied. "Night shift on the northwest watch reported some movement in this crazy ruin. Cobol and I were going to check it out before guard duty. Want to come?"

Andre chewed the thought with a bite of porridge, then shrugged.

"You in, Hagurumon?"

"If you wish to go, I will accompany you," they said.

"Yeah, why not?," Andre said.

* * *

To the northwest, the forest shifted once more, from tall evergreens to gnarled oaks and tufts of grass, and the feeling was breezy and light. The four hiked along a sun-dappled trail, Braden leading and Andre bringing up the rear. Ahead, the ruin towered over the trees, shaped like an overturned boat long ago beached and bleached by the sun. It stood forty feet tall and a hundred feet long, constructed from massive stones. Toward one side, what would have been the aft, it was flat.

"What information do we have on the situation?" Hagurumon asked. Braden pointed toward the flat end.

"There's a hole on that side, I guess," he said. "PawnChessmon saw something fly in from the east, land and crawl inside."

"Do we have any further details?"

"Nope. He got distracted and started correcting my posture."

Andre snorted.

"Ha! Andre knows what I mean," Braden triumphed.

They came to a shallow, dry riverbed, nominally spanned by half a dozen logs. Braden ignored the impromptu bridge for the riverbed itself. Stones and thick roots forced Andre to pick his steps more carefully, but Braden carried on unimpeded.

Maybe ten minutes up the riverbed, Braden stopped beneath a particularly twisted oak tree and knocked three times on its trunk. With a rustle, a Kokuwamon flew down to the ground to meet him.

"Morning! PawnChessmon reported something hanging around the ruin last night. Have you seen anything?" Braden asked.

"No direct contact," the Kokuwamon said. "Something's keeping the KoDokugumon away from this part of the forest, though. Nobody's reported a sighting in days."

"That's weird," Braden replied. "Anyway, we're gonna check out that ruin real quick. Thanks."

The Kokuwamon and Braden saluted one another, and with a buzz, the Digimon flew back into the tree. Braden shrugged at the rest of the group and started back down the riverbed.

"So we're going in blind?" Andre asked.

"Not quite," Braden said. "Cobol's got a scanner when he Digivolves. Hagurumon should tough up too."

Andre nodded and pulled his Digivice from his pocket. The two Hagurumon glowed, grew and solidified into their Adult forms. Practiced, Braden hopped into Cobol's cockpit as Guardromon boosted Andre onto their back. With a burst of heat, the Digimon lifted off, speeding toward the ruin.

Andre, clutched tight to his partner, surveyed the world around him as they flew. The forest was thicker from above — no ground was visible. On this hot day, the blue of the sky was ever so slightly muted, as if a thin fog lined the upper reaches of the atmosphere. Ahead, the ruin stood at the center of a clearing, surrounded by a terrace of yet more huge white stones.

The Digimon landed at the edge of the clearing on the long side of the ruin. Beneath Andre's feet, the all-too-perfectly flat stones felt strange — even the floor of the cathedral bore the irregularities of long wear.

"I might be close enough to scan it from here," Braden said, Cobol's machine parts rendering his words tinny. Andre, meanwhile, surveyed the clearing.

 _Those trees look weird_ , he thought. He paced away from the building. And the trees were weird indeed; pointing away from the ruin, their branches grew normally, but not a twig nor a leaf dared to cross the edge of the terrace. Instead, the branches turned sharply upward, straight as broom handles.

"Hey, Guardromon?" Andre called.

"Yes, Andre?"

"What's the story on this ruin again?"

"I am not familiar with its history or purpose," Guardromon said. "I would guess it is an artifact of your world, like the cathedral."

"Yeah, this place is way creepy," Andre said. "Trees don't do that."

"Not without cause," Guardromon replied. Andre shuddered.

"Hey guys, Cobol can't see through the walls," Braden said. "Looks like we're using the door."

_Great._

But Andre said nothing, instead sticking close to the trees as he followed. The front wall was vast and unwelcoming. At the center was an entryway maybe twice as high as Andre was tall, arched and yawning, a hungry mouth edged with stone teeth.

"Beginning scan," Braden said.

"Why are we messing with the creepy ruin again?" Andre asked.

"Dealing with your angst," Braden said. "We've got… Oh man, two Devidramon inside. That's no joke."

"We have an advantage," Guardromon said. "They will likely have to squeeze through to exit, and they will have to go one at a time."

"So what are you thinking?" Braden asked. "Pump the doorway full of explosives, and I'll zap 'em from the side when they try to exit?"

"Approximately. Andre, does this sound reasonable to you?"

"I mean, sounds good as anything," he answered.

Cobol already stood at an odd angle to the door. When Guardromon was lined up, he pointed.

_Destruction Grenade! Destruction Grenade! Destruction Grenade!_

Guardromon fired grenade after grenade into the ruin. The Devidramons' roars echoed under each deafening blast. Jets of hot air shot from the door like dragon's breath, rocking the oaks in its path. One Devidramon dropped into the doorway, four red eyes locking on Guardromon, mouth wide in a furious scream.

_Twinkle Beam!_

Cobol's lasers caught it on the shoulder, knocking it into the edge of the arch.

"One more shot!" Braden shouted. Cobol's sphere glowed.

And then the other Devidramon, smaller by a third at least, pushed aside its toppled counterpart, jaws wide and dripping, eyes glowing.

_Twinkle Beam!_

_Red Eye!_

The laser caught and obliterated the first Devidramon.

"Guardromon! Fire!" Andre cried. But Guardromon stood stock-still, arm outreached, next grenade not quite loaded. They looked over to Andre, eyes dilated with terror. The smaller Devidramon dove out of the doorway, four wings tight to its leathery body, huge red claws outstretched.

_Crimson Nail!_

Its claws dug into Guardromon's copper exterior, and both Digimon flew through the air, crashing into the trees. Andre ran in pursuit.

"Get back!" Braden shouted, as Cobol's jets erupted, sending them into the air. Devidramon flew upward, Guardromon still impaled on its claws, limbs limp.

_Twinkle Beam!_

Cobol intercepted the Digimon mid-air, lasers bursting as it made contact. Guardromon plummeted to the stone terrace below, landing hard with the crunch of splintering stones.

"Guardromon!" Andre called, running to his partner. Guardromon glowed, then shrank back to Hagurumon.

"I am sorry, Andre," they said.

"We have to get to cover," Andre said, tearing up. "Are you hurt?"

Not twenty feet away, Devidramon crashed on the terrace, belly up, wings broken to uselessness.

_Twinkle Beam!_

Lasers struck the huge, black Digimon square in its chest, and it burst into a cloud of acrid black ash, reeking of brimstone and house fires. Andre covered his eyes and coughed. Cobol landed softly on the stones nearby. Braden hopped out and ran over.

"Is he okay?" Braden asked.

"I am not seriously injured," Hagurumon said. "Though I believe my pride has been bruised."

Braden and Andre both snorted, Andre wiping his eyes.

"Man, that paralysis thing those Devidramon do is nasty," Braden said.

"You've fought them before?" Hagurumon asked.

"Yeah, once or twice. They go down fast if you get the drop on 'em," he said. "Let's head inside and see what they were up to."

"Were those the only things in there?" Andre said.

"Yup!" Braden said. He turned and climbed back into Cobol's cockpit, immediately making for the battle-scarred arch. Andre stayed a step ahead of Hagurumon, just in case, his nerves still ringing.

Inside, Cobol shone a light around the dark space. Save for a few scars from Guardromon's grenades, the walls were lined with glyphs, some kind of writing in a language Andre didn't understand. His gaze followed Cobol's light around. Then, mid-step, he kicked something. It was large and hard, but too light to be a stone. Cobol traced a line from Andre's foot across the floor. Scattered across the stones were burnt and broken circuit boards and the remains of several hard drives. At the center of the room, the fallen wreckage of a tower of cathode ray monitors littered the ground with tiny shards of leaded glass. Circles and lines, including more of those glyphs, were scratched into the stone all around a pile of computer parts. Toward the back were a warehouse's worth of computers, safes, boxes — even stones that resembled computer towers.

"What the hell were they doing here?" Andre asked.

"Probably another one of those Transmission cults," Braden said. He stopped for a moment. "This might not have been the work of two Digimon. We should set up an ambush in here to catch anyone they were working with."

"A sound plan," Hagurumon said. "We should inform the rest of the village and get reinforcements."

"For sure," Braden said. "Cobol and I should trash what's left real quick, just in case."

_Twinkle Beam!_

Cobol's lasers sparked over and over, melting every computer and monitor in the room. The smell of burning plastic drove Andre toward the door, coughing.

"They are certainly enthusiastic," Hagurumon said, following Andre into the sunlight.

"Pretty powerful, too," Andre said.

"Indeed they are," they agreed. Soon, Cobol emerged from the doorway, with Braden hopping out of the cockpit. With a glow, Cobol shrank back into Hagurumon.

"Alright, let's head home and report in!" he said, starting for the path.

"Hey, thanks for covering Guardromon back there," Andre said, following. "We're lucky Cobol didn't get hit by… whatever that eye attack was."

"No problem!" Braden said. "Actually, I should've said something about those eyes. Easy to forget when I can still manually aim the Twinkle Beam even if Cobol gets hit, right buddy?"

"Affirmative," Cobol said.

"You dispatched those Devidramon efficiently," Hagurumon said, in praise. "Your partnership is impressive."

"Well, part that, part we've been…" Braden paused, searching for the right word. "Andre, did you ever play Pokemon?"

"A little, why?" Andre answered.

"Do you know what grinding is?"

"Not, like, related to Pokemon, no."

"Well, I guess that's what they call it in other games like that, too — I only get to play Pokemon because I told Mom I could hide a Game Boy from Dad. He thinks video games are, uh, 'deliberate cultural sabotage.'"

Andre did a double-take.

"Where the hell do you live, South Park?"

"Vail. And Dad believes some pretty weird things," Braden said. "He's more like my grandpa than my dad, really, and you know how old people are weird about Asian stuff. Because of the wars."

 _I'm not even gonna touch that._ Andre shrugged, biting his tongue.

"Anyway, grinding is when you beat up a bunch of weak Pokemon to level up your Pokemon so you're strong enough to take on a gym," Braden continued.

"That makes sense," Andre replied.

"Yeah, well, that's what Cobol and I have been doing. Not just training, like practicing fighting, but getting stronger by wiping out these little spider Digimon."

Andre stopped, unsure if he'd heard right.

"Wait, like just attacking them on sight?" he asked, half-jogging to catch up.

"Yeah, yeah!" Braden said. "I mean, they come back and all — Digimon don't really die, remember? But we're getting stronger, and they can't attack the village. Cobol's gotten strong really fast!"

Cobol looked away, bashful.

"That's, uh…" Andre began.

"And I guess that's what I was gonna suggest this morning," Braden said. He stopped, then turned to Andre, looking very serious. "Alright, this plan's kinda out there. Carmen's not going to like it, so if I can't get you onboard to present it to her with me, it isn't happening. So hear me out: someone needs to protect the Caprimon village, right?"

"Right," Andre said.

"And maybe Holliday's gonna let Carmen stay there, and maybe he isn't. We don't know. Right?"

"Right."

"But if they had two or three Digimon that are as strong as our partners, well, they'd be set, right?"

"You're not suggesting we tell them start killing random Digimon walking through the woods, are you?"

"No, of course not!" Braden said. "What if we hit Digimon that talk or come from another village? We'd be begging for a complications."

Andre glanced at Hagurumon, whose carefully neutral expression reflected his own. Already, he had a lot to say, but where to even begin?

"So we need a group of Digimon who can agree to get destroyed over and over so we aren't making trouble. Who better than the Digimon who are going to benefit from having strong protectors?"

"The Caprimon?" Andre said, half-involuntarily.

"Yeah, exactly," Braden said. "Now I know it's out there, but it's a way to grind up Gaomon, one of the Kokuwamon and probably that one PawnChessmon into their next forms without starting a war or something. Plus, again, they come back, so it's not like they're dying to make someone who doesn't want them safe stronger, like they would otherwise."

"I…" Andre blinked, shook his head, anything to pull the words together.

"It's kinda counterintuitive, I know, but sometimes the best solutions are," Braden said, hands up. "So what do you think?"

"I am so, so not okay with this plan," Andre punctuated, all but twitching with the force of keeping his volume under control. "You want these Digimon to murder their friends over and over, and you can't see the problem with that?"

"You said we could just talk about stuff," Braden said, wounded. "You're not shouting, but…" He stuffed his hands into his pockets, shrinking. His voice came out very small, that of a scorned child. "I told you I'd drop it if you weren't okay with it."

"Drop it and forget about it," Andre answered, ice in his voice. "That's so evil."

Braden wrinkled his lip, breath quaking. He pulled his hood over his head.

"Okay," he said, quietly. With that, he turned and marched toward the village, each step fast and purposeful. Cobol followed close behind.

Andre didn't follow, not for a moment. He jammed his eyes shut and counted deep breaths from ten downward. It took the edge off, but something remained unsteady in his bones, and his shoulder throbbed.

"That was…" Hagurumon began, then stopped. Andre turned to his partner, pain now apparent on his face. The gears in their mouth whirred as they floated, mouth ajar, eyes meeting Andre's. They were picking their words, that much was evident.

"Let's go back to the village," they said. "We should rest."

Wearily, Andre nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to AgentOrangeJuice for plot consultation and to ThereBeWhalesHere. Feel free to hit me up here, on FanFiction.net or on Tumblr. Enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

Andre tried to work the soreness out of his shoulder, but his muscles still complained. And worse, all the rubbing against his bandages drove his raw skin to itch. But he sent it to the back of his mind as he and Hagurumon followed the trail through the tall forest back to the village. 

_ Does Braden just… not realize that Digimon are people? Does he still think we’re in a video game? _

Pondering and fussing with his shoulder, Andre stared at the sky and the clouds building to the east. If weather in the Digital World was anything like weather back home, and Andre had no reason to expect that it was, the rain would come heavy by early afternoon — just in time for his guard shift.

“You are still recovering from a serious injury, Andre,” Hagurumon said. 

“Yeah, but I still need to talk to him,” Andre replied. “We’ve got, what, half a day before we finally get to check in with Holliday?” He kicked a rock out of the path, bouncing it off the dusty stone wall of the cathedral courtyard.

“I agree that you need to speak to Braden and begin repairing your partnership, but it would be wise to at least eat lunch first. You have been dealing with a lot today.”

“Waiting won’t make it easier,” Andre insisted.

He rounded the edge of the wall and, with no further words, immediately scanned the busy yard for Braden’s blue hoodie. There were plenty of shiny-helmed Caprimon across the courtyard — Caprimon dancing, Caprimon gardening, Caprimon lining up for lunch, Caprimon checking the roofs of their huts as the clouds rolled in, Caprimon doing anything a Caprimon might do. But no Braden.

There was, however, a white PawnChessmon directing that particularly giggly Kokuwamon as he flitted up and down the walls of the tower, cleaning the windows. If the forked crack down the back of his helmet wasn’t obvious enough, his barking voice made it clear that this was the stodgy, orderly PawnChessmon, not the near-silent one who only really appeared around meal times. Andre marched up to the officious Digimon and stood at attention as best he could.

“Sir! Andre LeDoux reporting, sir!” Andre barked. He knew little about military decorum, but shouting and stiff stances seemed to please the Digimon.

“Suck that gut in, soldier,” PawnChessmon ordered, jabbing at Andre’s belly with the blunt butt of his spear. Andre complied, puffing his chest out. “Much better. What do you need, soldier?”

“Sir, have you seen Braden, sir?”

“Ah, Murray! He’s a hell of a dedicated soldier, unlike most of the men I’m stuck with out here,” PawnChessmon said. “He volunteered for a dangerous mission in the northwestern quadrant. Reported signs of a Transmission cult operating out of that ruin up there - he’ll be taking my shift. Would you know anything about that?”

“Sir, I do. We eliminated two probable cultists just a while ago. Has he deployed yet, sir?”

“He left a few minutes ago. You could learn from that one, you know? No hesitation. No slouching,” he said, again prodding Andre’s stomach.

_ Not going to miss you, asshole.  _ Andre thought, biting his tongue. 

“Sir, thank you. That’s all. Permission to depart, sir?”

“Dismissed,” PawnChessmon said, returning his attention to the Kokuwamon.

Andre turned and marched away, Hagurumon close behind, into the cathedral itself, where he let out a sigh of frustration. He wouldn’t be able to deal with the Braden problem until dinner at the earliest. Damn. Absent-minded, he scratched at his shoulder, wincing as the fabric rubbed his raw skin.

“Is your shoulder bothering you, Andre?” Hagurumon asked.

“It’s just an itch,” Andre said.

“They may have something to help in the sick room,” Hagurumon said. “I will save us a spot in the line for lunch.”

“I’m not…” Andre started to say ‘hungry,’ but an ache in his stomach dissented. He sighed. “Alright, sounds good.”

“Please do not take too long,” they said. “It will be difficult for me to carry two bowls.”

“Sure,” Andre said, turning and walking up the aisle.

He eased the door of the sick room open, hoping for one of the Digimon who knew its contents would be there. But he had no such luck, and resigned to search, he closed the door behind him with a sigh.

“Maybe there’s calamine lotion in one of these kits,” he said, crossing the room. He pulled one of the many army-green boxes from the shelves and set it on the ground, picking through pills he didn’t recognize, bottles with caps for hypodermic needles, bandages… nothing he could pick out as an itch remedy. He bundled everything back into the box and, frustrated, stuffed it into the tightly packed shelf. At the far end, another metal box fell to the ground with an echoing clatter, spilling its contents across the floor.

In one of the beds, Gaomon shot up, eyes wide, scanning the room. But his expression quickly fell from sharp to wobbly. He braced himself against the bed.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay Gaomon,” Andre said, crossing the room. “Just me, sorry. Are you okay?” Andre rested a hand on Gaomon’s shoulder, steadying him. Gaomon took a moment to respond, but he nodded.

“You’re walking around,” he said, faint but happy, lying back down. He yawned as Andre pulled the red velvet blanket up over him.

“Yeah, I’m a lot better,” Andre said, voice hushed. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore. Kind of nauseous,” Gaomon said. “Better, though. Especially knowing you’re up. Are you well enough for guard duty today?”

Guilt pricked at the back of his mind.

“Yeah, I should be,” he said.  _ No reason to worry him before I know what’s happening. _ The thought comforted Andre; whether it was true or not, he wasn’t sure. 

“Good. The Kokuwamon have told me about what you’ve been doing to keep the village safe. It’s… thank you,” he said. “Just, thank you for protecting the Caprimon. And Carmen. You’re really brave.”

Andre forced a smile, pushing past the urge to curl up and hide under a bed. He was good at making smiles pass for genuine when he felt like a spider watching the boot fall; this wasn’t too different. 

“It’s… I want to get home to my mom,” he managed. “I don’t want to be a burden while I’m here.”

“Carmen used to talk like that too,” Gaomon said. “You’re a lot like her, you know? You’re both really brave and kind. And you’re always helping people.”

Andre looked away, feigning bashful as kindness stung like cruelty.

“I mean it,” Gaomon insisted. “All Carmen asked for was guard duty, but that wasn’t enough. You made all these blankets, too. I’m glad the extra medicine got you up quicker.”

Andre turned. 

“Extra medicine?”

Gaomon cocked his head.

“Don’t you remember?” he asked. “You were awake when I gave it to you. You were saying something that didn't make sense, but I thought that was just the fever.”

_ The doppelganger with the stars… yeah, I don’t really have dreams that weird and symbolic. _

“You said I needed it more than you,” Andre said. “Did you give me your dose of that plant medicine stuff?”

Gaomon smiled and nodded.

“You could have died. I’ll get better on my own,” he said.

That’s what everyone else had said, too. So Andre supposed it made sense. Giving up medicine, staying sick longer to make sure someone else wouldn’t die — he could see the logic. And Guardromon was much stronger than Gaomon. His role guarding the village would be taken care of, better than he could. Everything lined up, reasoned out, well-considered, elegant in a way Andre could respect, bought for the meager price of temporary suffering. But it didn’t sit right. It left Carmen worried and distracted. And it worried Andre, too — why pretend?

_ I shouldn’t be critical of him when he’s sick, though. That won’t help. _

“Thanks,” Andre said. “Anything I can do to help you get better?”

“I’m a little hungry,” Gaomon allowed.

“I’ll grab you something. Hagurumon’s holding my place in the lunch line anyway.” Andre turned for the door. Behind him, Gaomon gave a broad smile and tucked himself deeper under his blanket.

* * *

 

Two bowls of a thin but richly spiced meat-apple stew in hand, Andre pushed his way into the sick room, Hagurumon close behind, to find Carmen sitting at Gaomon’s bedside. Gaomon was sleeping, and craned over him, Carmen stroked his head, a mournful expression upon her face.

She turned to look at Andre. But she said nothing.

“Uh, he asked for some food…” Andre began. “Bad time?”

“You’re fine,” she sighed, standing. Andre offered her the spare bowl of soup, which she set on the table next to Gaomon’s bed, for when he woke up.

“Hey, I’m sorry about… well, bearing bad news,” Andre said. “And everything, I guess.”

Slowly and deliberately, Carmen checked that Gaomon was tucked in properly.

“I don’t hold it against you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said. “I still haven’t… it’s a lot. That’s all.”

“You have our condolences and our support,” Hagurumon said.

“Thanks. Really, the waiting’s the worst part. I hate waiting,” she said. Then, she perked up somewhat. “Actually, I’m glad I found you. There’s something else on that disk — you should follow me downstairs.”

Andre and Hagurumon nodded, and Carmen led the three out of the sick room. Andre, bringing up the rear, was sure to close the door slowly and quietly behind him.

* * *

 

In her bunker, Carmen flicked on the main monitor and sat in her chair, beckoning Andre and Hagurumon toward the screen; they sat their soup bowls on her desk. The terminal window starting up the chat program showed some eleven and a half hours remaining, Andre noted. But Carmen paid it no mind, instead loading the strange floppy. She also pulled up another terminal and typed in a few commands.

“Check this out,” she said, pressing enter. Two icons popped up in the directory, both simplistic line drawings. The first was orange and looked like the sun or a compass. The second, gray, a cross shape with triangles around it.

“What are they?” Hagurumon asked.

“No clue. I can’t see the filetype, so I’m not sure how to open…” 

Carmen stopped, eyes fixed on the gray symbol on the screen.

“Weird,” she said under her breath, scratching at the screen with a fingernail. “That’s… is that glowing?”

Andre noticed the same - it was brighter than the white of the screen around it, getting brighter by the second. And then came the rumbling deep in Andre’s pocket. He pulled out his Digivice, which was vibrating hard. The screen glowed with a gray light - the same gray coming out of the computer screen. As he brought it closer, the Digivice glowed brighter. He looked to Hagurumon, whose expression conveyed a shrug. 

“It seems the reasonable conclusion,” Hagurumon said. Steeling himself, Andre raised the Digivice to the monitor. The glow and the vibration grew stronger; Andre’s hand felt numb, like he was holding a sander. He held it closer, closer to the screen, right over the icon. 

And then it stopped. The Digivice was still, and the monitor looked plain as ever.

“That cross is gone,” Carmen said. And indeed it was, absent from its place next to the sun/compass. She tabbed over to her terminal and started repeating commands. As she did, Andre turned the Digivice over and looked at the screen. In the top right corner, blinking, he saw two cruciform icons.

“Uh, I think I found it,” Andre said. 

“May I?” Carmen asked, holding her hand out. Andre gave her the Digivice, which she regarded with intense focus. 

“My computer shouldn’t be able to transfer data like that,” she said. “But here we are. No password, no permissions, no nothing. That’s… that’s kinda scary, honestly.”

“Maybe it’s Bluetooth?” Andre suggested.

“People actually picked up on that protocol? My mom used to say it was super insecure,” Carmen said. 

“Yeah, a lot of stuff uses it,” Andre said. “But usually there’s this whole pairing thing when you first set it up, and I don’t really know the details.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t seem right either,” Carmen said. She paused for a moment in thought. “Hey, would you mind if I made a backup copy of this floppy? I want to see if I can figure out how Holliday did half of this stuff, once this is all over. Especially those hidden files.”

“It would be useful for us to have a backup copy as well,” Hagurumon said.

“Good thinking,” Carmen said, handing the Digivice back to Andre. “For all we know, this program I’m booting could turn my computer into a Digimon and make it eat the disk.”

Andre squinted at her suggestion.

_ But Holliday pulled you into a computer-world-thing full of monsters and turned your phone into… whatever this thing is. Weirder things have happened. _

He looked at his Digivice again, wondering at the little icons. The screen had a few stuck pixels, he noted — they hadn’t been there that morning. But moreover, he noticed the time.

“Hey, Carmen, I should go,” Andre said. “Guard duty coming up.”

“Sure,” she said. “Come find me after dinner and I’ll get you set up.”

“Thanks,” he said, idly scratching his shoulder. It stung a little, but he didn’t mind. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to plot consultant AgentOrangeJuice and to ThereBeWhalesHere.


End file.
